IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-S) 


1.0 


1.1 


UilM    125 
lit  IM   g2.2 

s;  ufi  12.0 


■  1.8 


1  '-2^  II  '-^  ly^ 

^ 

6"     

► 

PhotDgraphic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


>  A  ^v 


23  WBT  MAIN  STRUT 

WltSTIt.N.Y.  MSM 

(71«)  t72-4S03 


'^ 


CIHM/ICMH 

Microfiche 

Series. 


CIHIVI/ICIVIH 
Collection  de 
microfiches. 


Canadian  Institute  for  Historical  Microreproductions  /  Institut  Canadian  da  microraproductions  historiquas 


6^^ 


Technical  and  Bibliographic  Notas/Nota*  tachniquea  at  bibliographiquaa 


Tha  Instituta  haa  attamptad  to  obtain  tha  baat 
original  copy  availabia  for  filming.  Faaturaa  of  thia 
copy  which  may  ba  bibiiographicaliy  uniqua. 
which  may  altar  any  of  tha  imagaa  in  tha 
raproduction,  or  which  may  significantly  changa 
tha  usual  mathod  of  filming,  ara  chackad  balow. 


n 


D 


n 


D 


D 


Colourad  covars/ 
Couvartura  da  coulaur 


I     I    Covars  damagad/ 


Couvartura  andommagia 


Covars  rastored  and/or  laminatad/ 
Couvartura  rastaurte  at/ou  palliculAe 


I      I   Cover  title  missing/ 


Le  titre  de  couverture  manque 


□   Coloured  maps/ 
Cartes  g6ographiques  en  couleur 


Coloured  ink  (i.e.  other  than  blue  or  black)/ 
Encre  de  couleur  (i.e.  autre  que  bleue  ou  noire) 


0   Coloured  plates  and/or  illustrations/ 
Planches  et/ou  illustrations  en  couleur 

□    Bound  with  other  material/ 
Reli6  avac  d'autres  documents 

0    Tight  binding  may  cause  shadows  or  distortion 
along  interior  margin/ 

La  re  liure  serrie  peut  causer  de  I'ombre  ou  de  la 
distortion  le  long  de  la  marge  intArieure 


Blank  leaves  added  during  restoration  may 
appear  within  the  text.  Whenever  possible,  these 
have  been  omitted  from  filming/ 
II  se  peut  que  certaines  pages  blanches  ajoutAes 
lore  d'une  restauration  apparaissent  dans  le  texte, 
mais,  lorsque  cela  6tait  possible,  ces  pages  n'ont 
pas  M  filmtes. 

Additional  comments:/ 
Commentaires  supplimentaires; 


L'iristitut  a  microfilmi  le  mailleur  exemplaire 
qu'il  lui  a  At4  possible  de  se  procurer.  Les  details 
da  cet  exemplaire  qui  sent  peut-Atre  uniques  du 
point  de  vue  bibliographiqua.  qui  peuvent  modifier 
une  image  reproduite,  ou  qui  peuvent  exiger  une 
modification  dans  la  mAthoda  normaJa  de  filmage 
sont  indiquAs  ci-dessous. 


I      I   Coloured  pages/ 


I — I    Pages  damaged/ 

I      I    Pages  restored  and/or  laminated/ 


0 


Pages  de  couleur 

Pages  damaged/ 
Pages  endommagies 

Pages  restored  and/oi 

Pages  restauries  et/ou  pelliculAes 

Pages  discoloured,  stained  or  foxed/ 
Pages  dicolor^es.  tacheties  ou  piqudes 

Pages  detached/ 
Pages  d^tach^es 

Showthroughy 
Transparence 

Quality  of  prir 

Qualit^  inigala  de  ('impression 

Includes  supplementary  materii 
Comprend  du  materiel  supplAmentaire 

Only  edition  available/ 
Seule  Edition  disponible 


P 
o 


C 

b 
tl 

s 
o 
fi 

s 
o 


I      I  Pages  detached/ 

r~3  Showthrough/ 

r~7]  Quality  of  print  varies/ 

rn  Includes  supplementary  material/ 

I     I  Only  edition  available/ 


T 
si 
T 
vt 

IS^ 
dl 
ei 
bi 

rll 
re 


Pages  wholly  or  partially  obscured  by  errata 
slips,  tissues,  etc..  have  been  refilmed  to 
ensure  the  best  possible  image/ 
Les  pages  totalement  ou  partieilement 
obscurcies  par  un  feuillet  d'errata.  une  pelure, 
etc.,  ont  M  filmies  d  nouveau  de  fapon  d 
obtenir  la  meilleure  image  possible. 


This  item  is  filmed  at  the  reduction  ratio  checked  below/ 

Ce  document  est  filmi  au  taux  de  rMuction  indiqu6  ci-dessous. 


10X 

14X 

18X 

22X 

26X 

30X 

y 

12X 

16X 

20X 

24X 

28X 

32X 

^V>v 


The  copy  film«d  n«r«  has  b««n  raproducod  thanks 
to  the  gsnsrosfty  of: 

Library, 

National  MuNuim  of  Canada 


L'exsmplairs  filmA  fut  raproduit  grica  k  la 
gAn^rositA  da: 

BibliotMqua 

Muitet  Nationaux  du  Canada 


Tha  imagas  appaaring  hara  ara  tha  bast  quality 
posslbia  eonaidaring  tha  condition  and  iagibllity 
of  tha  original  copy  and  in  kaaping  with  tha 
filming  contract  spacifications. 


Las  imagas  suivantas  ont  4t*  raproduitas  avac  la 
plus  grand  soin,  compta  tanu  da  la  condition  at 
da  la  nattat*  da  i'^xampiaira  film*,  at  an 
conformitA  avac  las  conditions  du  contrat  da 
filmaga. 


Original  copias  in  printad  papar  covars  ara  filmad 
baginning  with  tha  front  covar  and  anding  on 
tha  last  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impras- 
sion,  or  tha  back  covar  whan  appropriata.  All 
other  original  copias  ara  filmad  baginning  on  tha 
first  paga  with  a  printad  or  illustratad  impras- 
sion,  and  ending  on  tha  last  paga  with  a  printad 
or  illustratad  impression. 


The  last  recorded  frame  on  each  microfiche 
shall  contain  the  symbol  — »-  (meaning  "CON- 
TINUED"), or  the  symbol  V  (meaning  "END"), 
whichever  applies. 


Les  exemplairas  originaux  dont  la  couvarture  en 
papier  est  imprimAe  sont  fiimAs  en  commandant 
par  la  premier  plat  at  en  terminant  soit  par  la 
darniire  page  qui  cor^porte  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration,  soit  par  la  second 
plat,  selon  le  cas.  Tous  las  autres  exemplairas 
originaux  sont  filmte  en  commen9ant  par  la 
pramlAre  paga  qui  comporta  une  empreinte 
d'impression  ou  d'illustration  at  an  terminant  par 
la  darnlAre  paga  qui  comporta  una  telle 
empreinte. 

Un  des  symboies  suivants  apparaltra  sur  la 
darnlAre  image  de  cheque  microfiche,  selon  le 
cas:  le  symbols  »►  signifie  "A  SUIVRE".  le 
symbols  ▼  signifie  "FIN". 


Maps,  plates,  charts,  etc.,  may  be  filmed  at 
different  reduction  ratios.  Those  too  large  to  be 
entirely  included  in  one  exposure  are  filmed 
beginning  in  the  upper  left  hand  corner,  left  to 
right  and  top  to  bottom,  as  many  frames  as 
required.  The  following  diagrams  illustrate  tha 
method:  ' 


Les  cartas,  planches,  tableaux,  etc..  peuvent  Atre 
filmAs  A  des  taux  de  reduction  diff^rents. 
Lorsque  le  document  est  trop  grand  pour  Atre 
reproduit  en  un  seul  cliche,  il  est  filmA  A  partir 
da  I'angia  supArieur  gauche,  de  gauche  it  droite. 
et  de  haut  en  bas,  en  prenant  le  nombre 
d'imagas  nAcassaire.  Las  diagrammes  suivants 
iliustrent  la  mAthode. 


1 

2 

3 

32X 


1 

2 

3 

4 

5 

6 

\' 


(iN  Hvmm 


iiJv,; 


■  ifVf  «.-, 


?  \ 


'  M'^  \V!i  Uli/U'It.VS 


'■    ^i  ;■  V   .'i    i'llK   FOREST 


!■>;-"*"';  ne  Ai^.-H-i. 


■■^Tax;  rug  i-Kur 


^' 


i,-<^<.\N. 


1853. 


01(j639 


NATIONAL  MUSEUJf 
„  's  OF  CANADA 


■ 

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1 

' .-"      -  :.^^- 

fi^^- 

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V 

rV%« 

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,/ 

„: .  ■  ;...'4- 


.■*■■■• 


i^.-^ 


,'«<.  •:'", 


\'  it?'. 


•    I 


^1 


WESTERN  SCENES 


AND 


KEMINISCENCES: 


TOOETHXa  WITH 


niKILLING  LEGENDS  AND  TRADITIONS 


or  THI 


RED  MEN  OF  THE  FOREST. 


TO  WniCH  IS  ADDED 


SEVERAL  NARRATIVES  OF  ADVENTURES  AMONG  THE  INDIANS. 


AUBURX :  DERTIY  <fe  MILLER. 

BUFFALO:  DERBY,  ORTON  &  MULLIGAN.  ,    , 

,     ..••••.,■ 

1853.      :..::".••  :'•.'.. 

••'iiATiQNAL  MUSEUM 
01U639      |^P5^ CANADA    '  " 


Entered  according  U>  Act  i)f  Congress,  in  the  year  1851,  by 

GEO.  H.  DERBY  A  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  tlie  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Northern  District  of  Now  York. 


^ 


A  '"'  .'. 


.!•■'.    .'  •  •  • 


' 1       t ' »• 


CONTENTS. 


FAOGS. 

Personal  Rkmfniscences, 5  to    40 

Scenes  ami  Adventures  ill  tlH>  Ozark  Mountiiins,     ...  41  "     ($3 

Personal  Incidents  and  Impressions  of  the  Indian  Rjice,    .  04  "     77 

Tales  of  a  Wigwam — 

The  White  Stone  Canoe, 79  «     81 

The  Lynx  and  the  Hare — Fal)le  from  the  Odjibwa-Algonqnin,  81 

The  Woi-ship  of  the  Sun,  an  Ottowu  Tradition, ....  82  "     84 

Shingeljiss, 85  "     86 

Wivsbaslias,  or  the  Tribe  that  Grew  out  of  a  Shell,      .     .  95"     97 

The  Boy  who  set  a  Snare  for  the  Sun, 97  "     99 

AnipaUi  Sai)a,  or.  The  First  Wife, 99  "  100 

Mukakee  Mindcmoea,  or.  Hie  Toad  Woman,   ....  101  "  103 

The  Quadruped  with  the  Hair  blowi  off  its  Skin,  .    .     .  106  "  109 

The  Traditionary  Story  of  Red  Head  and  his  Two  Sons,  109  "  115 

The  Swing  on  tiie  Lake  Shore,  .     .    . 116  "  117 

Takozid,or.theShoit-Foot, 118  "  121 

Maehinito,  the  Evil  Spirit,  by  Mrs.  E.  Oakes  Smith,  .     .  V21  "  126 

ITie  Little  Spirit,  or  Boy-Man,  an  Odjibwa  Fairy  Tale,   .  ivi":  "  130 

Aingodon  and  Naywadaha — story  of  a  family  of  Nadowas,  13*    "  133 

The  Rabid  Wolf,  a  Village  Tradition, 158  "  163 

Moo  wis,  or  the  Man  niiide  up  of  Rags  and  Dirt,   .     .     .  164  "  167 

The  Lone  Lightning,  an  Odjibwa  Tale, 168 

Poetry — 

To  Health, 183 

The  Bird, 63 

"  The  Loon  upon  the  Lake," 404 

Odjibwa  Song, 405 

Niagara,  an  Allegory, 407 

Traditionary  Wai'  Songs  of  tlie  Odjibwa  Algonquins,  .     .  410  "  416 


'2.^5^^ 


'IK- 


IV  0  O  N  T  E  N  T  f. , 

Skktciiks  of  the  T^ives  of  noteo  Mku  Mf.n  and  Women — 

VMitH. 

WiilHijwfi,  or  the  Whito  FisliiT, 1.'{4"'I4."> 

JJniiit,  Jvotl  Jacket,  I'iK'iw,  Miontoiiiiiio, 14(J  "  ir»7 

CoiiCc-iHoiis  of  Catlu'riiK' Of^oo  Wyaii  Akwut  Okwa,     .     .  UW  "  174 

Aiidaiy  Wi'os,  or  (Vows-Flesh, U»'J  "  ll>r> 

Earlv  Indian  ]>io<fra|ih_v — Piskaret,  an  Algonquin  Chii'f|  .  87  "  00 

Early  Hketchfs  of  hidian  Women, 95 

Tho  ^ragician  of  T.ake  Huron, nfl  "  17S 

Vem  I'alile  Indian  ('liiet| ;j(55 

hulian  Women,  their  Dis])ositions,  ICmployments,  &:c.,    .  390  "  401 

OuKilN  AND  ITlSTOnV  OF  THE  IvACE 

Wyandot  Traditions  of  the  Creation,  and  other  Epm'hs,      lOtJ  "  200 

Tradilioiisofthe  Ardides, 201  "  203 

Ilistorieal  Traditions  of  the  Chippewas,  Odjiliwas,  &c.,     .  203  "  20« 
IMytlioIogy,  Su|)erstition,  and  Religion  of  the  Algonquhis,  20('»  "  217 

Indian  Arrow  Heads,  c<cc., 218  "  220 

The  :\lanito  Tree, 78 

The  Eva  of  the  Amval  of  the  Freneh  in  the  Upper  Lakes,  280  "  290 

Bhingalia-Wossins,  or  Image  Stones, 291  "  295$ 

jMnenionic  Synd)ols  of  the  North  Ameriean  hidfans,  .     .  293  "  300 

(irave  Creek  IVlound, 301 

Names  of  the  American  Lakes, 303  "  303 

Letters  on  the  Antiquities  of  the  Western  Country,     .     .  309  "  328 

Era  of  the  Settlement  of  Detroit,  I'^e., 328  "  330 

The  (lioetaw  hidians,        330 

A  Syno])sis  of  Cartier's  Voyages  of  Discovery,  .     .     .     .  331  "  353 
hiflueneo  of  Ardent  Spirits  on  the  Condition  of  hidians,    .  353  "  305 

Eate  of  the  Red  Kace  in  America,        3()(')  "  389 

Pawnee  Barliarity, 402  "  403 

Indian  Possessions, 103 

Ruling  Oiief  of  the  Miamis, 174 

Repos(- of  the  Soul, 127 

Com  Planting  and  its  hicidents, 179  "  183 

Domestic  and  Social  Manners  of  the  hidians,     ....  184  "  187 

Pugasaing,  or  the  Game  of  the  Bowl, 188  "  190 

Reverence  and  Affection  for  Parents, 191 

Clironology, '*    .  288 

The  ( )rigin  of  the  Wyandot  and  Seneca  Trilies,     .     . '  .     91  "     94 
The  Flight  oftheShawiices  from  tlie  South, 104  "  105 


CONTKNTfl, 


Etiinoloov — 

Sehnolcrnfl's  Cyt'lopiwliu — Ilistory,  Geography,  Aic, 

Lanouaoe — 
Gnunmntical  Stnicturc  of  the  Indian  Langiingo, 


PAon. 


131  "  165 


260 


Nursery  and  Cradle  Songs  of  the  l'\>rcst, 390 

Mode  of  Writing  an  Indian  Language, 

Languages  of  the  Pacific  Isliuids, 

Indian  Musit^,  Songs,  and  Poetry, 221 

Geographical  Terminology,  from  the  Indian  Language, 

Names  of  the  Seasons, 

Chant  to  the  Firefly, 230 

A  Psalm,  or  Supplietition  for  Mercy,  &e., 408  "  40U 


"  288 

"  398 

145 

398 

"  229 

304  "  308 

308 


Appendix — 

Narrative  of  the  Captivity  t)f  Alexander  Henry,  Esq., 
Narrative  of  the  C'aptivity  of  Frances  Noble,  . 
Narrative  of  the  Captivity  of  Q\iintin  Stockwell, 
Narrative  of  the  Captivity  i>f  Peter  Williamson, 
Narrative  of  the  C'aptivity  of  Jonathan  Carver, , 
Narrative  of  the  Giptivity  of  Mrs.  Scott,      .    . 


417  "  402 
403  "  469 
470  "  478 
479  "  487 
488  "  493 
494  "  495 


PERSONAL  REMINISCENCES. 


It  is  now  twenty-six  years  since  I  first  entered  the  area  of  tlie  Missis- 
si]i[)i  vullcy,  wiili  the  view  of  exploring  its  then  but  imjierfectly  known 
I'Mtiiies,  ^'I'o^'raphical  and  geological.  Twenty-tw^o  years  of  this  period 
h.ivo  tlnpsfd  since  I  entered  on  the  duties  of  an  Executive  Agent  for  the 
United  St:ilos  (lovernment  in  its  higher  northern  hititades  among  the  In- 
dian tri'irs  in  the  west.  Having  devoted  so  large  a  portion  of  my  life  m 
nn  active  sphere,  in  which  the  intervals  of  travel  left  me  favourable  oppor- 
luiuties  of  pursuing  the  hnguiiges  and  history  of  this  branch  of  the 
race,  it  appears  to  be  a  just  expectation,  that,  in  sitting  down  to  give  some 
account  of  this  people,  there  should  be  some  preliminary  remarks,  to  ap- 
prise the  render  how  and  why  it  is,  that  his  attention  is  recalled  to  a  topic 
which  he  may  have  supposed  to  be  well  nigh  exhausted.  This  it  is  pro- 
posed to  do  by  some  brief  personal  reminiscences,  beginning  at  the  time 
above  alluded  to. 

The  year  1814  constituted  a  crisis,  not  only  in  our  political  historyi 
but  also  in  our  commercial,  manufacturing,  and  industrial  interests.  The 
treaty  of  Ghent,  which  put  a  period  to  the  war  with  England,  was  a 
blessing  to  many  individuals  and  classes  in  America:  but,  in  its  conse- 
quences, it  Imd  no  small  share  of  the  effects  of  a  curse  upon  that  class  of 
citizens  who  were  engaged  in  certain  brunches  of  manufactures.  It  was 
a  pecnliiH'ity  of  the  crisis,  that  these  persons  had  been  stimulated  by 
double  motives,  to  invest  their  capital  and  skill  in  the  perfecting  and  estab- 
lishment of  the  manufactories  referred  to,  by  the  actual  wants  of  the 
country  and  the  high  prices  of  the  foreign  articles.  No  pains  and  no  cost 
had  been  spared,  by  many  of  them,  to  supply  this  demand  ;  and  it  was 
another  result  of  the  times,  that  no  sooner  had  they  got  well  established, 
and  were  in  the  high  road  of  prosperity  than  the  peace  came  and  plunged 
them  headlong  from  the  pinnacle  of  success.  This  blow  fell  heavier 
upon  some  branches  than  others.  It  was  most  fatal  to  those  manufacturers 
who  had  undertaken  to  produce  fabrics  of  the  highest  order,  or  which 
belong  to  an  advanced  state  of  the  manufacturing  prosperity  of  a  nation. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  it  fell  withcrushingforce  upon  that  branch  in 
which  I  was  engaged.  As  soon  as  the  American  ports  were  opened  to 
these  fabrics,  the  foreign  makers  who  could  undersell  us,  poured  in  cargo 
on  cargo  ;  and  when  the  first  demands  had  been  met,  these  cargoes  were 
ordered  to  be  sold  at  auction  ;  the  prices  immediately  fell  to  the  lowest 
point,  and  the  men  who  had  staked  in  one  enterprise  their  zeal,  skill  and 
money,  were  ruined  at  a  blow. 

Every  man  in  such  a  crisis,  must  mentally  recoil  upon  himself    Ilibiti 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


of  application,  reading,  and  an  early  desire  to  bt  useful,  had  sustained 
me  at  a  prior  period  of  life,  through  the  dangers  and  fascinations  of  jovial 
company.  There  was  in  this  habit  or  temper  of  room-seclusion,  a  pleas- 
ing resource  of  a  conservative  character,  which  had  filled  up  the  intervals 
of  my  busiest  hours  ;  and  when  business  itself  came  to  a  stand,  it  had 
the  effect  to  nid  me  in  balancing  and  poising  my  mind,  while  I  pre- 
pared to  enter  a  wider  field,  and  indeed,  to  change  my  whole  plan  of  life. 
If  it  did  not  foster  a  spirit  of  right  thought  and  self-dependence,  it,  at 
least,  gave  a  degree  of  tranquillity  to  the  intervals  of  a  marked  pause,  and, 
perhaps,  flattered  the  ability  to  act. 

Luckily  I  was  still  young,  and  with  good  animal  spirits,  and  a  sound 
constitution  I  resolved  I  would  not  go  down  so.  The  resuh  of  seven 
years  of  strenuous  e.vertions,  applied  with  persevering  diligence  and  suc- 
cess, wns  cast  to  the  winds,  but  it  was  seven  years  of  a  young  man's  life, 
and  I  thought  it  could  be  repaired  by  time  and  industry.  What  the  east 
withheld,  I  hoped  might  be  supplied  by  another  quarter.  I  turned  my 
thoughts  to  the  west,  and  diligently  read  all  I  could  find  on  the  subject. 
The  result  of  the  war  of  181'2,  (if  this  contest  had  brought  no  golden 
showers  on  American  manufacturers,  as  I  could  honestly  testify  in  rnj' 
own  case,)  had  opened  to  emigration  and  enterprise  the  great  area 
west  of  the  Alleghanies.  The  armies  sent  out  to  battle  with  Indian, 
and  other  foes,  on  the  banks  of  the  Wabash,  the  Illinois,  the  Detroit,  the 
Raisin  and  the  Miami  of  the  Lalces,  had  opened  to  observation  attractive 
scenes  for  settlement;  and  the  sword  was  no  sooner  cast  aside,  than  emi- 
grants seized  hold  of  the  axe  and  the  plough.  This  result  was  worth  the 
cost  of  the  whole  contest,  honour  and  glory  included.  'J'he  total  prostra- 
tion of  the  moneyed  system  of  the  country,  the  effects  of  city-lot  and  other 
land  speculations,  while  the  sy-strm  was  at  its  full  flow,  and  the  very 
backward  seasons  of  181Gand  1817,  attended  with  late  and  early  frosts, 
which  extensively  destroyed  the  corn  crop  in  the  Atlantic  state?,  all  lent 
their  aid  in  turning  attention  towards  the  west  and  south-west,  where  seven 
new  states  have  been  peopled  and  organized,  within  the  hrirf  period  to 
which  these  remiiiiscenc(>s  apply,  namely,  Indiana,  Illinois,  Mississippi, 
Missouri,  Alabama,  Arkansas  and  Michigan,  besides  the  flourishing  terri- 
tories of  Wisconsin  and  Iowa,  and  the  more  slowly  advancing  territory 
of  Florida.  It  appeared  to  me,  that  information,  geographical  and  other, 
of  such  a  wide  and  varied  region,  whose  boundaries  were  but  ill  defined, 
must  be  interesting  at  such  a  period  ;  and  I  was  not  without  the  hope  that 
the  means  of  my  future  advancement  would  be  found  in  connexion  with 
the  share  I  might  take  in  the  exy)loration  of  it.  With  such  views  I  resolved 
to  go  west.  This  feeling  I  find  to  be  expressed  on  the  back  of  an  old  slip 
of  an  account  of  the  period  : 

"  I  will  go  by  western  fountain, 
I  will  wander  far  and  wide ; 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES.  7 

Till  some  sunny  spot  invite  me, 
Till  some  guardian  bid  me  bide. 

"  Snow  or  tempest — plain  the  drearest 

Shall  oppose  a  feoble  bar, 
Since  I  go  from  friends  the  dearest, 
'Tis  no  matter  then  how  far. 

"  On  ! — 'tis  useless  here  to  dally  ; 

On  ! — I  can  but  make  or  mar  ; 
Since  my  fortune  leads  to  sally, 

'Tis  no  matter  then  how  far." 

Of  the  "  seven  years"  to  which  allusion  has  been  made  I  had  spent 
four  in  New  England, a  land  which  is  endeared  to  me  at  this  distance  of 
time,  by  recollections  of  hospitality,  virtue,  and  manly  intelligence. 

While  engaged  in  the  direction  of  the  business  above  named,  I  had  pre- 
pared the  notes  and  materials  for  my  first  publication,  in  which  I  aimed 
to  demonstrate  the  importance  uf  an  acqtiaintance  with  Chemistry  and 
Mineraki',ry  in  the  )ircp;i ration  and  fusion  of  numerous  substances  in  the 
mineral  kingdom,  wliich  result  in  the  different  conditions  of  the  various 
glasses,  enamels,  «fcc.  I  had,  from  early  youth,  cultivated  a  taste  for 
mineralogy,  long  indeed  it  may  be  said,  before  I  knew  that  mineralogy 
v.'MS  a  science  ;  and,  as  opportunities  increased,  had  been  led  by  my  in- 
quiries, (which  I  followed  with  ardour  but  with  very  slight  helps,)  to  add 
to  this  some  knowledge  of  elementary  chemistry  and  experimental  philos- 
ophy, and  to  supply  myself,  from  Boston  and  New  York,  with  books, 
apparatus,  and  tests.  1  do  not  know  that  there  were  any  public  lectures 
on  nuiieralogy,  &c.  at  this  lime,  say  from  1810  to  'IG  ;  certainly,  there 
were  none  within  my  reach.  I  gleaned  from  the  best  sources  I  could, 
and  believe  that  the  late  Professor  Frederick  Hall  was  the  only  person  to 
whom  I  was  indebted  even  for  occasional  instructions  in  these  depart- 
ments. Fie  was  a  man  strongly  devoted  to  some  of  the  natural  sciences, 
particularly  mineralogy  ;  and  was  erudite  in  the  old  authors  on  the  sub- 
ject, whom  he  liked  to  quote  ;  and  I  may  say  that  I  continued  (o  enjoy 
his  confidence  and  friendship  to  the  time  of  his?  death,  which  happened  in 
1843.  From  such  sources,  from  the  diligi'nt  reading  of  hooks,  and 
from  experiments,  conducted  with  the  advantage  of  having  under  my 
charge  extensive  works,  at  various  times,  in  iIk^  states  of  New  York,  Ver- 
mont and  New  Ilanipsliire,  I  drew  the  principles  which  formed  the  basis 
of  my  treatise  on  Vitreology.  With  this  work  in  hand,  I  left  Keene,  in 
New  Hampshire,  early  in  the  winter  of  1817  ;  and,  crossing  the  Con- 
necticut river  at  Brattleboro,'  proceeded  over  tho  Green  Mountains,  bvthe 
route  of  Bennington,  to  Albany,  and  thence  returned  to  my  father's  house 
in  western  New  York-.  No  time  was  lost  in  issuing  proposals  for  the 
work  ;  and  I  had  the  satisfaction  to  find  that  the  portions  published,  and 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 


I 


the  entire  plan  and  merits  of  it  were  warmly  approved  by  the  pen  of  the 
late  Mr.  Maynard  of  Utica,  and  by  several  liberal  minded  and  intelligent 
persons.  Before  quitting  New  England,  I  had  determined  to  go  to  the 
Mississippi  valley,  and  had  begun  to  study  its  geography  ;  and  I  now 
resolved  to  proceed,  without  unnecessary  delay. 

Means  constitute  the  first  object  of  solicitude  in  all  such  undertakings. 
The  ebbing  tide  of  manufacturing  prosperity  to  which  I  have  referred,  had 
left  me  very  poor.  From  the  fragments  of  former  acquisitions,  for  which, 
however,  I  was  exclusively  indebted  to  my  own  industry,  I  raised  a  small 
ium  of  money — much  smaller  I  think  than  most  men  would  be  willing 
to  start  with,  who  had  resolved  to  go  so  far.  I  had,  in  truth,  but  sixty 
dollars  in  the  world  ;  but  I  possessed  a  very  good  wardrobe,  and  some 
Other  personal  means,  such  as  it  may  be  supposed  will  adhere  to  a  man 
who  has  lived  in  abundance  for  many  years.  I  put  up  a  miniature  col- 
lection of  mineralogical  specimens,  to  serve  as  a  standard  of  comparison 
in  the  west,  a  few  implements  for  analysis,  some  books  which  I  thought  it 
would  be  difficult  to  meet  with  in  that  region,  and  some  drawing  mate- 
rials. I  had  connected  these  things  in  some  way  with  my  future  success. 
In  other  respects,  I  had  the  means,  as  above  hinted,  of  making  a  respect- 
able appearance.  Thus  prepared,  I  bade  adieu  to  my  father  and  mother, 
and  also  to  three  sisters  and  a  brother,  all  younger  than  myself,  and  set 
forward.  The  winter  of  1818  had  opened  before  I  reached  my  brother's 
house  at  Geneva,  in  western  New  York.  From  this  point  I  determined 
to  leave  the  main  track,  through  the  Genessee  county  west,  and  to  strike 
the  head  waters  of  the  Alleghany  river,  so  as  to  descend  that  stream  with 
the  spring  flood. 

My  brother  drove  me  in  his  own  sleigh,  as  far  as  Angelica.  By  the 
time  we  reached  that  place,  being  no  traveller  and  much  fatigued  with 
the  intricacies  and  roughness  of  the  road,  he  was  fain  to  give  over  his 
undertaking,  and  I  parted  from  him,  sending  back  the  sleigh  from  Olean, 
to  take  him  home. 

The  Alleghany  river  was  locked  with  ice  when  I  reached  it.  I  had 
an  opportunity  to  cross  it  on  foot,  and  to  e.vamine  in  the  vicinity  thosa 
evidences  of  the  coal  formation  which  are  found  in  masses  of  bituminous 
shale,  slaty  coal  and  petroleum.  The  river  began  to  open  about  the  middle 
of  March.  I  left  Olean  in  the  first  ark  'or  the  season,  borne  onwards  down 
the  sweeping  Alleghany  at  the  top  of  the  flood,  often  through  winding 
channels,  and  once  in  danger  of  being  precipitated  over  a  mill  dam,  by 
taking  the  wrong  channel. 

On  another  occasion,  just  as  we  were  coming  to  the  division  of  the 
channel,  at  the  head  of  a  group  of  islands,  a  tall  Seneca  Indian,  standing 
in  the  bow  of  a  very  long  pine  canoe,  cried  out,  in  a  tone  of  peculiar  em- 
phasis, "  Keep  to  the  right — I  speak  it."  This  direction  we  followed,  and 
were  saved  from  another  mishap.     We  tied  the  ark  to  the  shore  at  nigh^ 


PERSONAL     REMINISCENCES. 


9 


bmlt  a  fire  on  the  bank  and  cooked  a  supper.  On  pnssing  the  Conowonga, 
it  was  at  the  height  of  its  flood,  and  appeared  to  bring;  in  as  much  water  as 
the  Alleghany.  We  stopped  at  the  noted  chief  Corn])lantor's  village,  and 
also  to  gratify  a  reminiscent  curiosity,  at  the  month  of  French  Creek, 
connected  with  Washington's  perilous  adventure  in  visiting  Fort  de  Boef, 
now  Erie.  At  Kittaning,  a  great  scow  ferry  boat  was  rowed  and  man- 
aged by  two  women  or  girls  with  a  degree  of  muscular  exertion,  or  rather 
ease,  which  would  put  to  the  blush  many  a  miin  east  or  west  of  the  Alle- 
ghanies.  The  tone,  air,  and  masculine  strength  of  these  girl-boatmen, 
reminded  me  of  nothing  this  side  of  RoUin's  description  of  the  Amazons 
— save  that  the  same  provision  was  not  apparent  for  drawing  the  bow. 
Bold  hills  line  both  banks  of  the  river  along  its  upper  parts,  and  continue, 
indeed,  at  farther  intervals  apart,  to  very  near  the  junction  of  the  Monon- 
gahela  ;  but  long  before  this  point,  the  stream  is  one  of  noble  dimensions, 
clear,  broad,  and  strong.  After  a  voyage  of  exciting  and  vivid  interest, 
I  reached  and  landed  at  Pittsburgh. 


NO.  II. 


It  is  Dr.  Johnson,  I  think,  who  says,  that  we  take  slight  occasions  to 
be  pleased.  At  least,  I  found  it  so,  on  the  present  occasion  ;  the  day  of 
my  arrival  was  my  birth  day,  and  it  required  but  little  stretch  of  imagi- 
nation to  convert  the  scene  upon  which  I  had  now  entered,  into  a  new 
world.  It  was  new  to  me. — I  was  now  fairly  in  the  great  geological 
valley  of  the  v^st,  the  object  of  so  many  antici])iitions. 

The  ark,  m  which  I  liad' descended  the  Allegany,  put  ashore  near  the 
point  of  land,  which  is  formed  by  the  junction  of  the  Monongahela  with 
this  fine  clear  stream.  The  dark  and  slowly  moving  waters  of  the  one, 
contrasted  strongly  with  the  sparkling  velocity  of  the  other.  I  felt  a 
buoy.incy  of  spirits  as  I  leapt  ashore,  and  picked  up  some  of  its  clean 
pebblis  to  sre  what  kind  of  geological  testimony  they  bore  to  the  actual 
character  of  their  parent  beds  in  the  Apalachian  range. 

'•What  shall  I  pay  you,  for  my  passage,  from  Olean,"  said  I,  to  the 
gentleinnn  with  whom  I  had  descended,  and  at  whose  ark-table  I  had 
found  a  ready  seat  with  his  family.  "Nothing,  my  dear  sir,"  he  replied 
with  ii  prompt  and  friendly  air, — ''  Your  cheerful  aid  in  the  way,  taking 
the  oars  whenever  the  case  required  it,  has  more  than  compensated  for 
any  claims  on  that  score,  and  I  only  regret  that  you  are  not  going  further 
with  us." 

Committing  my  baggage  to  a  carman,  I  ascended  the  bank  of  diluvial 
earth  and  pebbles  with  all  eagerness,  and  walked  to  the  point  of  land 
where  l'"ort  Pitt  (old  Fort  Du  Quesne)  had  stood.  It  is  near  this  point 
that  the  Alleghany  and  Monongahela  unite,  and  give  birth  to  the  noble 
Ohio.  It  is  something  to  st.and  at  the  head  of  sneh  a  stream.  The 
charm  of  novelty  is  beyond  all  others.  I  could  realize,  in  thought,  as  I 
stood  here,  gazing  on  the  magnificent  i)rospect  of  mingling  waters,  and 
their  prominent  and  varied  shores,  the  idea,  which  is  said  to  be  endiodied 
in  the  old  Mingo  substantive-exclamation  of  0-hc-o!  a  term,  be  it  remem- 
bered, which  the  early  French  interpreters  at  once  rendered,  and  truly,  it 
is  believed,  by  the  name  of  La  Uille  Riviere. 

So  far,  I  said  to  myself,  all  is  well, — I  am  now  west  of  the  groat 
spinal  chain.  All  that  I  know  of  America  is  now  fairly  ra.s-^  of  me — 
bright  streams,   warm  hearts  and  all.     I  have  faiily   cast   myself  loose 

10 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


11 


on  the  wide  waters  of  the  west.  I  have  already  come  as  many  hundred 
miles,  as  there  are  days  in  the  week,  but  I  begin  my  travels  here.  1 
have,  as  it  were,  taken  my  life  in  my  hand.  Father  and  mother,  I  may 
never  see  more.  God  wot  the  result.  I  go  to  seek  and  fulfil  an  unknown 
destiny.  Come  weal  or  woe,  I  shall  abide  the  result.  All  the  streams 
run  south,  and  I  have  laid  in,  with  "time  and  chance"  for  a  journey  with 
them.  I  am  but  as  a  chip  on  their  surface — nothing  more !  Whether 
niy  bones  iire  to  rest  in  this  great  valley,  or  west  of  the  Cordilleras,  or  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  I  know  not.  I  shall  often  think  of  the  silver  Iosco, 
the  farther  I  go  from  it.  To  use  a  native  metaplior,  iVly  foot  is  on  the 
path,  and  the  word,  is  onward  !  "  Tho  spider  taketh  hold  with  her 
hands,"  Solomon  says,  "and  is  in  king's  palaces."  Truly,  a  man  should 
accomplish,  by  diligence,  as  much  as  a  spider. 

Pittsburgh  was,  even  then,  a  busy  manufacturing  town,  filled  with 
working  machinery,  steam  engines,  hammers,  furnaces,  and  coal  smoke. 
I  visited  Mr.  O'Hara,  and  several  other  leading  manufacturers.  TIfcy 
made  glass,  bar  iron,  nails,  coarse  pottery,  castings,  and  many  other 
articles,  which  filled  its  sliops  and  warehouses,  and  gave  it  a  city-like 
appearance.  Every  chimney  and  pipe,  perpendicular  or  lateral,  puflod 
out  sooty  coal  smoke,  and  it  required  some  dexterity  to  keep  a  clean  collar 
half  a  day.  I  mot  ladies  who  bore  this  /w/^h'.m  of  tlie  city,  on  their  morning 
toilet.  I  took  lodgings  at  Mr.s.  McCuilough's,  a  respectable  hotel  on  Wood 
street,  and  visited  the  various  manufactories,  for  which  the  place  was  then, 
and  is  now  celebrated.  In  these  visits,  I  collected  accurate  data  of  the  cost 
of  raw  material,  the  place  wliere  obtained,  the  e.xpense  of  manuficture,  and 
the  price  of  the  finished  fabric.  I  iiad  thus  a  body  of  facts,  which  enabled 
me,  nt  least  to  converse  understandingly  on  these  topics,  to  give  my 
friends  in  the  east,  suitable  data,  and  to  compare  the  advantages  of  manu- 
facturing here  with  those  pe.^M'Ssed  by  the  eastern  and  middle  states.  Every 
thing  was.  in  the  business  prospects  of  tho  west,  however,  at  a  compara- 
tively low  elib.  The  prostrating  efi'ects  ol  the  war,  and  of  the  peace,  were 
alike  felt.  We  had  conquered  England,  in  a  second  contest,  but  were 
well  exhausted  with  the  ellbrt.  The  country  had  not  recovered  from  the 
sacrifices  and  losses  of  a  series  of  military  operations,  which  fell  most 
heavily  on  its  western  population.  Its  agricultural  industry  had  been 
crippled.  Its  financial  affairs  were  deranged.  Its  local  banks  were 
broken  :  its  manufactories  were  absolutely  ruined.  There  was  little  con- 
fidence in  business,  and  never  was  credit,  public  and  private,  at  a  lower 
ebb.  There  was  however,  one  thing,  in  which  the  west  held  out  a 
shining  prospect.  It  had  abundance  of  the  finest  lands  in  the  world, 
and  in  fact,  it  promised  a  happy  homo  to  the  agricukural  industry  of  half 
the  world.  It  was  literally  the  land  of  promise,  to  the  rest  of  the  union, 
if  not  to  Europe. 

Having  seen  whatever  I  wished  in  Pittsburgh,  I  hired  a  horse  and 


12 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


crossing"  the  Monongahela,  went  up  its  southern  banks,  as  high  as  Wil- 
jamsport.  I  found  the  country  people  were  in  the  habit  of  calling  the  city 
•  Pitt"  or  "  Fort  Pitt,"  a  term  dating  back  doubtless  to  the  time  of  the  sur- 
render, or  rather  taking  possession  of  Fort  Du  Q,uesne,  by  Gen.  Forbes. 
Mineral  coal  (bituminous)  characterizes  the  entire  region,  as  far  as  my 
excursion  reached.  By  a  happy  coincidence  in  its  geological  structure, 
iron  ores  are  contained  in  the  series  of  the  coal  deposits.  On  returning 
from  this  trip,  night  set  in,  very  dark  :  on  the  evening  I  approached  the 
summit  of  the  valley  of  the  Monongahela,  called  Coal  Hill.  The  long  and 
winding  road  down  this  steep  was  one  mass  of  moving  mud,  only  varied 
in  its  consistence,  bysloughs,  sufficient  to  mire  both  man  and  horse.  I  was 
compelled  to  let  the  animal  choose  his  own  path,  and  could  only  give 
him  aid,  when  the  flashes  of  lightning  lit  up  the  scene  with  a  momentary 
brilliance,  which,  however,  had  often  no  other  effect  but  to  remind  me  of 
my  danger.  He  brought  me,  at  length,  safely  to  the  brink  of  the  river, 
and  across  the  ferry. 

To  be  at  the  head  of  the  Ohio  river,  and  in  the  great  manufacturing 
city  of  the  West,  was  an  exciting  thought,  in  itself.  I  had  regarded 
Pittsburgh  as  the  alpha,  in  my  route,  and  after  I  had  made  myself  familiar 
with  its  characteristics,  and  finding  nothing  to  invite  my  further  attention, 
I  prepared  to  go  onward.  For  this  purpose,  I  went  down  to  the  banks 
of  the  Monongahela,  one  day,  where  the  arks  of  that  stream  usually 
touch,  to  look  for  a  passage.  I  met  on  the  be  ich,  a  young  man  from  Massa- 
chusetts, a  Mr.  Brigham, — who  had  come  on  the  same  errand,  and  being 
pleased  with  each  other,  we  engaged  a  passage  together,  and  getting  our 
baggage  aboard  immediately,  set  off  the  same  evening.  To  float  in  an  ark, 
down  one  of  the  loveliest  rivers  in  the  world,  was,  at  least,  a  novelty,  and 
as  all  novelty  gives  pleasure,  we  went  on  charmingly.  There  were  some 
ten  or  a  dozen  passengers,  including  two  married  couples.  We  prome- 
naded the  decks,  and  scanned  the  ever  changing  scenery,  at  every  bend, 
with  unalloyed  delight.  At  night  we  lay  down  across  the  boat,  with 
our  feet  towards  the  fire-place,  in  a  line,  with  very  little  diminution 
of  the  wardrobe  we  carried  by  day, — the  married  folks,  like  light 
infantry  in  an  army,  occupying  the  flanks  of  our  nocturnal  array.  The 
only  objection  I  found  to  the  night's  rest,  arose  from  the  obligation, 
each  one  was  tacitly  under,  to  repair  on  deck,  at  the  hollow  nightcry 
of  "oars!"  from  the  steersman.  This  was  a  cry  which  was  seldom 
uttered,  however,  except  when  we  were  in  danger  of  being  shoved,  by 
the  current,  on  the  head  of  some  island,  or  against  some  frowning  "snag," 
80  that  we  had  a  mutual  interest  in  being  punctual  at  this  cry.  By  it, 
sleep  was  to  be  enjoyed  only  in  sections,  sometimes  provokinijly  short,  and 
our  dreams  of  golden  vallies,  studded  with  pearls  and  gems,  were  oddly 
jumbled  with  the  actual  presence  of  plain  matter  of  fact  things,  such  as 
running  across  a  tier  of  "old  monongahela"  or  getting  one's  fingeri 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


13 


trod  on,  in  scrambling  on  deck.  Wo  took  our  meals  on  our  laps,  sitting 
around  on  boxes  and  barrels,  and  made  amends  for  the  want  of  style  or 
elegance,  by  cordial  good  feeling  and  a  practical  exhibition  of  the  best 
principles  of  "  association."  There  was  another  pleasing  peculiarity  in 
this  mode  of  floating.  Two  or  more  arks  were  frequently  lashed 
together,  by  order  of  their  commanders,  whereby  our  conversational  circle 
was  increased,  and  it  was  not  a  rare  circumstance  to  find  both  singers 
and  musicians,  in  the  moving  communities  for  "the  west,"  so  that  those 
who  were  inclined  to,  might  literally  dance  as  they  went.  This  was 
certainly  a  social  mode  of  conquering  the  wilderness,  and  gives  some 
idea  of  the  bouyancy  of  American  character.  How  different  from  the 
sensations  felt,  in  floating  down  the  same  stream,  by  the  same  means,  in 
the  era  of  Boon, — the  gloomy  era  of  1777,  when  instead  of  violin,  or 
flageolet,  the  crack  of  the  Indian  rifle  was  the  only  sound  to  be  anticipated 
at  every  new  bend  of  the  channel. 

Off  Wheeling  the  commander  of  our  ark  made  fast  to  a  larger  one 
from  the  Monongahela,  which,  among  other  acquaintances  it  brought, 
introduced  me  to  the  late  Dr.  Sellman  of  Cincinnatti,  who  had  been  a 
surgeon  in  Wayne's  army.  This  opened  a  vista  of  reminiscences,  which 
were  wholly  new  to  me,  and  served  to  impart  historical  interest  to  the  scene. 
Some  dozen  miles  below  this  town,  we  landed  at  the  Grave  Creek  Flats, 
for  the  purpose  of  looking  at  the  large  mound,  at  that  place.  I  did  not 
then  know  that  it  was  the  largest  artificial  structure  of  this  kind  in  the 
western  country.  It  was  covered  with  forest  trees  of  the  native  growth, 
some  of  which  were  several  feet  in  diameter,  and  it  had  indeed,  essen- 
tially the  same  look  and  character,  which  I  found  it  to  present,  twenty- 
five  years  afterwards,  when  I  made  a  special  visit  to  this  remarkable 
mausoleum  to  verify  the  character  of  some  of  its  antiquarian  contents. 
On  ascending  the  flat  summit  of  the  mound,  I  found  a  charming  prospect 
around.  Tlie  summit  was  just  50  feet  across.  There  was  a  cup-shaped 
concavity,  in  its  centre,  exciting  the  idea  that  there  had  been  some  internal 
substructure  which  had  given  way,  and  caused  the  earth  to  cave  in. 
This  idea,  after  having  been  entertained  for  more  than  half  a  century, 
was  finally  verified  in  1838,  when  Mr.  Abelard  Tomlinson,  a  grandson 
of  the  first  proprietor,  caused  it  to  be  opened.  They  discovered  two 
remarkable  vaults,  built  partly  of  stone,  and  partly  of  logs,  as  was  judged 
from  the  impressions  in  the  earth.  They  were  situated  about  seventeen 
feet  apart,  one  above  the  other.  Both  contained  bones,  the  remains  of 
human  skeletons,  along  with  copper  bracelets,  plates  of  mica,  sea  shells, 
heads  of  wrought  conch,  called  ''  ivory"  by  the  muhitude,  and  some  other 
relics,  most  of  which  were  analooous  to  articles  of  the  same  kind  occur- 
ring in  other  ancient  mounds  in  the  west.  The  occasion  would  not  indeed 
have  justified  the  high  expectations  which  had  been  formed,  had  it  not  been 
for  the  discovery,  in  one  of  the  vaults,  of  a  small  flat  stone  of  an  oval  form, 


14 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


'\ 


i  = 


containing  an  inscription  in  ancient  characters.  This  inscription,  which 
promises  to  throw  new  light  on  the  early  history  of  America,  has  no» 
been  dccyphered.  Copies  of  it  have  been  sent  abroad.  It  is  thought 
by  the  learned  at  Copenhacen,  to  be  CeUiboric.  It  is  not,  in  their  view 
Runic.     Il  has,  apparently,  but  one  hieroglyphic,  or  symbolic  figure. 

A  good  deal  of  historical  interest  clusters  about  this  discovery  of  the 
insciibetl  stone.  Tornlinson,the  grandfather,  settled  on  these  flats  in  1772, 
two  yi'urs  before  the  murder  of  Logan's  family.  Large  trees,  as  large  as 
any  in  the  forest,  then  covered  the  flats  and  the  mound.  There  stood  in 
the  depression  I  have  mentioned,  in  the  top  of  the  mound,  a  large  beech 
tree,  which  had  been  visited  earlier,  as  was  shewn  by  several  names  and 
dates  cut  on  the  bark.  Among  these,  there  was  one  of  the  date  of  A.  D. 
1734.  This  I  have  seen  stated  under  Mr.  Tomliiison's  own  band.  Tha 
place  continued  to  be  much  visited  from  1770  to  1790,  as  was  shewn 
by  newer  names  and  dates,  and  indeed,  continues  to  be  so  still.  There 
was  standing  at  the  time  of  my  first  visit  in  1818,  on  the  very  summit 
of  the  mound,  a  large  dead  or  decayed  white  oak,  which  was  cut  down, 
it  appears,  about  ten  years  afterwards.  On  counting  its  cortical  layers, 
it  was  ascertained  to  be  about  500  years  old.  This  would  denote  the 
desertion  of  the  mound  to  have  happened  about  the  commencement  of 
the  13th  century.  Granting  to  this,  what  appears  quite  clear,  that  the  in- 
scription is  of  European  origin,  have  we  not  evidence,  in  this  fact,  of 
the  continent's  having  been  visited  prior  to  the  era  of  Columbus? 
Visited  by  whom?  By  a  people,  or  individuals,  it  may  be  said,  who  had 
the  use  of  an  antique  alphabet,  which  was  much  employed,  (although 
corrupted,  varied  and  complicated  by  its  spread)  among  the  native  priest- 
hood of  the  western  shores  and  islands  of  the  European  continent,  prior 
to  the  introduction  of  the  Roman  alphabet. 

The  next  object  of  antiquarian  interest,  in  my  descent,  was  at  Gullipolis 
— the  site  of  an  original  French  settlement  on  the  west  bank,  \\hich  is 
connected  with  a  story  of  much  interest,  in  the  history  of  western 
migrations.  It  is  an  elevated  and  eligible  plain,  which  had  before  been 
the  site  of  an  Indian,  or  aboriginal  settlement.  Some  of  the  articles  found 
in  a  mound,  such  as  plates  of  mica  and  sea  shells,  and  beads  of  the  wrought 
conch,  indicated  the  Siime  remote  period  for  this  ancient  settlement,  as 
theoneat  Grave  Creek  Flats;  but  I  never  heard  of  any  inscribed  articles, 
or  monuments  bearing  alphabetic  characters. 

All  other  interest,  then  known,  on  this  subject,  yielded  to  that  which 
was  felt  in  witnessing  the  antique  works  at  Marietta.  Like  many  others 
who  had  preceded  me  and  many  who  have  followed  me,  in  my  visit,  I  felt 
while  walking  over  these  semi-military  ruins,  a  strong  wish  to  know, 
who  had  erected  works  so  difl^erent  from  those  of  the  present  race  of  In- 
dians, and  during  what  phasis  of  the  early  history  of  the  continent? 
A  covered  way  had,  evidently,  been  constructed,  from  the  margin  of 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


15 


hich 
ther3 
I  felt 
now, 
f  In- 
lent? 
n  of 


the  Muskingum  to  the  elevated  square,  e-incinj  more  than  the  ordi- 
nary degree  oi  military  skill  exercised  ly  liie  Western  Indiatis.  Yet 
these  works  revealed  one  trait,  which  ussimilutes  them,  in  churuetcr,  with 
others,  of  kindred  stump,  in  the  west.  1  ulliido  to  the  defence  of  the  open 
gate-way,  by  a  minor  mound  ;  clearly  denoting  that  the  passage  was  to  be 
disputed  by  men,  fighting  hand  to  hand,  who  merely  sought  an  advantage 
in  exercising  manual  strength,  by  elevation  of  position.  The  Marietta 
tumuli  also,  agree  in  style  with  others  in  the  Ohio  valley. 

A  leaden  plate  was  found  near  this  place,  a  few  years  after  tins  visit,  of 
which  an  account  was  given  by  Gov.  Clinton,  in  a  letter  to  the  American 
Antiquarian  Society,  in  18'i7,  but  the  inscription  upon  it,  which  was  in 
Latin,  but  mutilated,  proved  that  it  relatcti  to  the  period  of  the  French 
supremacy  in  the  Caiiadas.  It  appeared  to  have  been  originally  deposited 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Venango,  A.  D.  1749,  during  the  reign  of 
Louis  XV. 

While  at  Marietta,  our  flotilla  was  increased  by  another  ark  from  the 
Muskingum,  which  brought  to  my  acquaintance  the  Hon.  Jesse  B.  Thomas, 
of  Illinois,  to  whose  civilities  I  was  afterwards  indebted,  on  several  occa- 
sions. Thus  reinforced,  we  proceeded  on,  delighted  with  the  scenery  of 
every  new  turn  in  the  river,  and  augmentingour  circle  of  fellow  travellers, 
and  table  acquaintance,  if  that  can  be  called  a  table  acquaintance  which 
assembles  around  a  rustic  board.  One  night  an  accident  befel  us,  which 
threatened  the  entire  loss  of  one  of  our  flotilla.  It  so  happened,  at  the 
spot  of  our  landing,  that  the  smaller  ark,  being  outside,  was  pressed  by  the 
larger  ones,  so  far  ashore,  as  to  tilt  the  opposite  side  into  the  stream  below 
the  caulked  seam  It  would  have  sunk,  in  a  few  minutes,  but  was  held 
up,  partly  by  its  fastening  to  the  other  boats.  To  add  to  the  interest  felt, 
it  was  filled  with  valuable  machinery.  A  congress  of  the  whole  travelling 
community  assembled  on  shore,  some  pitching  pebble-stones,  and  some 
taking  a  deeper  interest  in  the  fate  of  the  boat.  One  or  two  unsuccesstiii 
efl()rts  had  been  made  to  bail  it  out,  but  the  water  flowed  in  faster  than 
it  could  be  removed.  To  cut  loose  the  rope  and  abandon  it,  seemed  all 
that  remained.  "I  feel  satisfied,"  said  I,  "to  my  Massachusetts  friend, 
that  two  men,  bailing  with  might  and  main,  cnri  throw  out  more  water, 
in  a  givi'u  time,  than  is  let  Lti  by  those  seams;  and  if  you  will  step  in 
wuh  me.  we  will  test  it,  by  trying  again."  With  a  full  assent  and  ready 
good  will  he  met  this  proposition.  We  pulled  ofT  our  coats,  and  each 
taking  a  pail,  .stepped  in  the  water,  then  half  leg  deep  in  the  ark,  and 
began  to  bail  away,  with  all  force.  By  dint  of  determination  we  soon 
had  the  sati.sfaction  to  see  the  water  line  lower,  and  catching  new  spirit 
at  this,  we  finally  succeeded  in  sinking  its  level  below  the  caulked  seam. 
The  point  was  won.  Others  now  stepped  in  to  our  relief  The  ark 
and  its  machinery  were  saved.  This  little  incident  was  one  of  those 
which  served  to  produce  pleasurable  sensations,  all  round,  and  led  per- 


i 


16 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


haps,  to  some  civilities  at  a  subsequent  date,  which  were  valuable  to  me. 
At  any  rate,  Mr.  'rhoinus,  who  owned  the  ark,  was  so  well  picased,  that 
he  ordered  u  warm  breakfast  of  toast,  chickens,  and  cofTee  on  shore 
for  the  whole  party.  This  was  a  welcome  substitute  for  our  ordinary 
breakfast  of  bacon  and  tea  on  board.  Such  little  incidents  serve  as  new 
points  of  encourngfment  to  travellers:  the  very  shores  of  the  rivei 
looked  more  delightful,  after  we  put  out,  and  went  on  our  way  that  morn- 
ing. So  much  has  a  satisfied  appetite  to  do  with  the  aspect  of  things, 
both  without,  as  well  as  within  doors. 

The  month  of  April  hud  now  fairly  opened.  The  season  was  delight- 
I'ul.  Every  rural  sound  was  joyful — every  sight  novel,  and  a  thousand 
circumstaiici'S  united  to  make  the  voyage  one  of  deep  and  unmixed 
interest.  At  this  early  season  nothing  in  the  vegetable  kingdom  gives 
a  more  striking  and  pleasing  character  to  the  forest,  than  the  frequent 
occurrence  of  the  celtis  ohioensis,  or  Red  Bud.  It  presents  a  perfect 
bou(iuet  of  red,  or  rose-coloured  petals,  while  there  is  not  a  leaf  exfoliated 
upon  its  branches,  or  in  the  entire  forest. 

No  incident,  further  threatening  the  well  being  of  our  party,  occurred 
on  the  descent  to  Cincinnatti,  where  we  landed  in  safety.  But  long  before 
we  reached  this  city,  its  outliers,  to  use  a  geological  phrase,  were  encoun- 
tered, in  long  lines  and  rafts  of  boards  and  pine  timber,  from  the  sources 
of  the  Alleghany,  and  arks  and  flat-boats,  from  all  imaginable  places, 
with  all  imaginable  names,  north  of  its  latitude.  Next,  steamboats  lying 
along  the  gravel  or  clay  banks,  then  a  steam-mill  or  two,  puffing  up 
its  expended  strength  to  the  clouds,  and  finally,  the  dense  mass  of  brick 
and  wooden  buildings,  jutting  down  in  rectangular  streets — from  high 
and  exceedingly  beautiful  and  commanding  hills  in  the  rear.  All  was 
suited  to  realize  high  expectations.  Here  was  a  city  indeed,  on  the  very 
spot  from  which  St.  Clair  set  out,  on  his  ill-fated  expedition  in  1791, 
against  the  hostile  Indians.  Twenty-five  years  had  served  to  transform 
the  wilderness  into  scenes  of  cultivation  and  elegance,  realizing,  with  nc 
faint  outlines,  the  gay  creations  of  eastern  fable. 


0  me. 
1,  that 
shore 
linory 
s  new 

rivei 
morn- 
things, 

lelight- 
lousand 
nmixed 
n  gives 
frequent 

1  perfect 
xfoliated 

occurred 
(ig  before 
3  encoun- 
e  sources 
e  places, 
)ats  lying 
uffing  up 
of  brick 
rom  high 
All  was 
the  very 
in  1791, 
transform 
g,  with  nc 


NO.  III. 


CrNriNVATi  had,  at  this  lime,  (1818,)  the  ajjpearancc  of  a  rapidly  grow- 
in;,'  citv,  which  nppcaicd  to  have,  from  some  general  causes,  been  suddenly 
checliod  in  ils  growth.  Whole  rows  of  unfinished  brick  buildintfs  had 
bcM'o  li'ft  by  the  workmen.  Banks,  and  the  ofTicesof  corporate  and  miinu- 
flicturin?  comp;\nies,  were  not  unfrequcntly  found  shut.  Nor  did  it  re- 
quiie  ion?  looking  or  much  inquiry  to  learn  that  it  had  seen  more  pros- 
perous times.  A  branch  bank  of  the  U.  S.  then  recently  established  there, 
was  much  and  bitterly,  but  I  know  not  how  justly,  spoken  against.  But  if 
there  was  not  the  same  life  and  air  in  all  departments,  that  formerly  ex- 
i.ned,  there  was  abundant  evidence  of  the  e.\istence  of  resources  in  the  city 
and  country,  which  must  revive  and  push  it  onward  in  its  career  and 
growth,  to  rank  second  to  no  city  west  of  the  Alleghanies.  This  city  owes 
its  orii^in,  I  believe,  to  John  Cleves  Symes,  father-in-law  of  the  late  Presi- 
dent Harrison,  a  Jerseyman  by  birth,  who,  in  planning  it,  took  Philadel- 
phia as  his  model.  This  has  imparted  a  regularity  to  its  streets,  and 
squares,  that  visitors  will  at  once  recognize,  as  characteristic  of  its  paren- 
tage. It  stands  on  a  heavy  diluvial  formation  of  various  layers  of  clay, 
loam,  sand,  and  gravel,  disposed  in  two  great  plateaux,  or  first  and  second 
banks,  the  lowest  of  which  is  some  thirty  or  forty  feet  above  the  common 
sinnraer  level  of  the  Ohio.  Yet  this  river  has  sometimes,  but  rarel}',  been 
known  to  surmount  this  barrier  and  invade  the  lowermost  streets  of  the 
city.  These  diluvial  bods  have  yielded  some  curious  antiquarian  relics, 
which  lead  the  mind  farther  back,  for  their  origin,  than  the  Indian  race. 
The  most  curious  of  these,  if  the  facts  are  correctly  reported  to  me,  was 
the  discovery  of  a  small  antique-shaped  iron  horse-shoe,  found  twenty-five 
feet  below  the  surflico  in  grading  one  of  the  streets,  and  the  blunt  end, 
or  stump  of  a  tree,  at  another  locality,  at  the  depth  of  ninety-four  feet,  to- 
gether with  marks  of  the  cut  of  an  a.\c,  and  an  iron  wedge.  I  have 
had  no  means  to  verify  these  facts,  but  state  them  as  credible,  from  the  cor- 
roborative testimony  afforded  them  by  other  discoveries  in  the  great  geolo- 
gical basin  of  the  west,  e.vamined  by  me,  which  denote  human  occupancy 
m  America  prior  to  the  deposition  of  the  last  of  the  unconsolidated  and 
eocene  series. 

Our  flotilla  here  broke  up,  and  the  persons  who  had  formed  its  floating 

2  17 


18 


PBRNONAL    nKMINIHCRNCeS. 


community  scpnratcd,  cncli  to  pinsiie  liis  several  wny,  nnd  separate  views. 
I  made  several  accjiinintiuicfs,  w  hose  iiaiiirs  arc  recollected  with  pleasure. 
Dr,  S.  invited  me  to  dine  with  him,  introduced  nic  to  hia  young  partner, 
Dr.  Moorhead,  and  put  mo  in  the  wny  of  obtaining  eligible  j)rivMtc  lodg- 
ings. The  three  weeks  I  spent  in  this  city  were  ngreeahly  panged,  varied 
OS  they  were,  by  short  excursions  in  the  vicinity,  including  the  Licking 
valley — a  stream  which  conies  i'l  on  'h.?  Kfiitiicky  side,  directly  opposite 
the  city,  1  went,  one  day,  to  see  <in  e.\jierimental  structure,  built  ut  the 
foot  of  the  Walnut  hills,  with  a  very  long  pipe,  or  wooden  chandjer  lead- 
ing up  their  sides,  and  rising  above  their  tops.  This  was  constructed  by 
an  ingenious  person,  at  the  e.xpense  of  the  late  (Jen.  Lyttle,  under  the  con- 
fident hope  of  his  realizing  a  practical  mechanical  power  from  the  rari- 
ftK-lion  of  {itmosp/ii'i-ir  air.  There  was  confessedly  a  power,  but  the  difli- 
culty  was  in  multiplying  this  power,  so  us  to  render  it  practically  appli- 
cable to  the  turning  of  machinery.  The  ratio  of  its  increase,  contended  for, 
namely,  the  length  of  the  pipe,  appeared  to  mc  to  be  wholly  fallacious,  and 
the  result  proved  it  so.  The  thing  was  afterwards  abandoned.  There 
was  an  ancient  mound  here,  which  had  not  then  been  opened,  but  which 
has  since  yielded  a  curious  ornamented  stone,  bearing  a  kind  of  arabesque 
figures,  not  dissimilar,  in  the  style  of  drawing,  to  some  of  the  rude  sculp- 
tured figures  of  Yucatan,  os  recently  brought  to  light  by  Mr,  Stephens 
and  ]\Ir.  Cutherwood. 

I  received,  one  day,  a  note  from  one  of  the  directors  of  the  White  Lead 
Works,  above  the  city,  requesting  me  to  visit  it,  and  inspect  in  detail  the 
processes  of  the  manufacture.  'J'he  latter  I  found  to  be  defective  in  the 
mode  of  corroding  the  lend  by  the  acetic  acid;  there  was  also  an  unneces- 
sary complication  and  amount  of  machinery  in  bringing  the  oxide  into 
the  condition  of  a  good  pigment,  and  putting  it  into  kegs,  which  had  been 
very  onerous  in  its  cost,  and  was  perpetually  liable  to  get  out  of  order. 

II  was  during  my  stay  here  that  I  first  felt  the  cflects  of  the  western 
limestone  waters  rn  deranging  the  stomach  and  bowels,  and  paid  for  my 
initiation  into  the  habit,  as  all  strangers  must,  by  some  days  confinement. 
Dr.  M.  brought  me  about,  and  checked  the  disease,  without  any  perma- 
nently injurious  effects  on  my  general  health. 

When  I  was  ready  to  proceed  down  the  river,  I  went  to  seek  a  passage 
along  the  landinir,  but  found  no  boat  (steamboats  were  fv,\v  and  far  be- 
tween in  those  days  )  While  pacing  the  beach,  I  met  a  man  of  gentle- 
manly appearance,  wlio  had  e.xpeiieuced  the  same  disappointment,  and 
was  desirous  to  go  forward  in  his  journey.  He  told  me,  that  he  had 
found  a  small  row  boat,  well  built,  and  fitted  willi  seats,  which  could  be  pur- 
chased for  a  reasonable  sum  ;  that  it  would  hold  our  baggage  very  well, 
and  he  thought  we  could  make  a  j)leasant  trip  in  it  as  far  as  Louisville  at 
the  Falls,  where  the  means  of  communication  by  steamboats  were  ample. 
On  examining  the  boat,  and  a  little  inquiry,  1  acceded  to  this  proposition, 


PERHONVT.    RKMtXI8r»"NCE8. 


19 


passngc 
vl  llir  bc- 

f  gcrulc- 
iient,  and 
It  he  had 

d  be  pur- 

ery  well, 
uisville  at 

re  ample. 

roposition, 


and  I  had  no  cniisc  to  regret  it.  Thi^  ■  iitleman,  whose  nnmo  I  have  for* 
gotten,  but  which  is  somewhiTo  ainonij  my  j),ip<'rs,  wiis  a  native  of  tho 
city  of  Nuncy,  but  a  resident  of  H;iltimoie.  Ho  was,  likr  the  city  itself 
I  believe,  Fraiico-tieininn,  speaking  the  two  hmifiiajfes  very  well,  mid  tho 
English  with  peculiarities.  lie  had  a  benevolent  and  honest  countenance 
and  social,  agreeable  manners,  not  too  free,  nor  stiflly  reserved  ;  and  wo 
performed  the  trip  without  accident,  altlioiigii  we  had  a  narrow  escape  ono 
day  from  a  sawyer,  one  of  that  insidious  cast  of  these  river  pests,  called  in 
western  parlance,  a  sleeping  sawyer.  It  was  now  the  month  of  May  ;  the 
atmosphere  was  mild  and  balmy,  loaded  with  the  perfumes  of  opening 
vegetation  ;  we  took  the  oars  and  the  Jiehn  alternately  ;  we  had  a  constant 
Buccessioii  of  pretty  views  ;  we  put  ashore  to  eat  and  to  sleep,  and  the  whole 
trip,  which  occupied  some  three  or  four  days  at  tho  farthest,  was  perfectly 
delightful. 

We  put  ashore  at  Vevay,  where  the  Swiss  had  then  newly  introduced 
the  cuhivation  of  the  vine,  to  see  the  vineyards  and  the  mode  of  cultivation. 
I  have  since  witnessed  this  culture  on  the  banks  of  the  Rhine,  and  found 
it  to  be  very  similar.  The  vines  are  closely  pruned  and  kept  from  becoming 
woody,  and  are  trained  to  slender  slicks,  which,  are  arranged  with  the 
order  of  a  garden  bean-bed,  which  at  the  proper  season,  they  much  re- 
semble.    We  also  tasted  the  wine,  and  found  it  poor. 

Oil  the  last  day  of  the  voyage,  we  took  into  our  boat  a  young  physician 
— a  Hollander,  recently  arrived  in  the  country,  telling  him,  that  by  way 
of  equivalent,  we  should  e.vpect  him  to  take  his  turn  ut  the  oars.  He  was 
n  man  of  small  stature — well  formed,  rather  slovenly,  yet  pretty  well 
dressed,  with  blue  eyes,  a  florid  fiice,  and  very  voluble.  Of  all  that  he 
said,  however,  by  far  the  most  .striking  part,  was  his  account  of  his  skill 
in  curing  cancer.  It  was  clear  that  he  was  an  itinerating  cancer-doctor. 
He  said,  amid  other  thinfrs,  that  he  had  received  an  invitation  to  so  and 
cure  tho  Governor  of  Indiana.  Wc  now  had  Indiana  on  our  right  hand, 
and  Kentucky  on  our  left. 

These  are  the  principal  incidents  of  the  trip.  We  reached  our  destina- 
tion in  safety,  and  landed  on  the  superb  natural  sylvan  wall,  or  park, 
which  is  formed  by  the  entrance  of  Beargrass  Creek  with  the  Ohio,  just 
in  front  of,  or  a  little  above,  Louisville.  Here  wc  sold  our  boat,  took 
separate  lodgings,  and  parted.  I  found  in  a  day  or  two,  that  my  friend 
from  Nancy  had  a  flourishing  school  for  military  tactics  and  the  sword 
cxerci.so,  where,  at  his  invitation,  I  went  to  visit  him.  From  this  man,  I 
learned,  as  we  descended  the  Ohio,  that  the  right  and  Ifft  banks  of  a  river, 
in  military  science,  arc  determined  by  the  supposed  position  of  a  man 
standing  at  its  head,  and  looking  downwards. 

I  found  in  the  lime-stone  rocks  which  form  the  bed  of  the  river  between 
the  town  and  Corn  Island,  the  cornu  ammonis  and  some  other  species  of 
organic  remains ;  and  while  I  remained  here,  which  was  several  weeks 


tT 


SO 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


'til' 


I  wrote  a  notice  for  one  of  the  papers,  of  a  locality  of  manganese  on  Sandy 
river,  Ky.,  and  others  of  some  other  objects  of  natural  history  in  the 
west,  which  I  perceived,  by  their  being  copied  at  tlic  eastward,  were  well 
taken.  It  was  my  theory,  that  there  was  a  general  interest  felt  in  the 
Atlantic  States  for  information  from  the  west,  and  this  slight  incident  served 


to  encourage  me. 


The  steamboat  canal  since  constructed  around  the  falls  at  this  place,  was 
then  a  project  only  spoken  of,  and  is  here  alluded  to  for  no  higher  purpose 
than  to  mention,  that  in  its  actual  subsequent  e.xecution,  we  are  informed 
the  workmen  came,  at  the  depth  of  fourteen  feet  below  the  surface  of  the 
calcareous  rock,  to  a  brick  hearth,  covered  with  what  appeared  to  be  the 
remains  of  charcoal  and  ashes. 

I  took  walks  almost  daily,  on  the  fine  promenade,  shaded  with  lofty 
trees,  festooned  with  their  native  vines,  along  the  Beargrass  Creek,  which 
is  the  common  place  of  landing  for  arks  and  boats.  On  one  ol'  these  oc- 
casions, there  came  in  a  large  ark,  which  had  been  freighted  at  Perryo- 
polis,  on  the  Yioughagany,  some  thirty  miles  from  Pittsburgh.  The  two 
proprietors  were  K.  and  K.,  Marylanders,  both  young  men,  or  verging  to 
middle  life,  who  had  clubbed  together  the  necessary  funds,  and  in  the  spirit 
of  adventure,  resolved  on  a  trading  voyage.  There  was  something  in  the 
air  and  manners  of  both,  which  1  thought  I  could  trust  in  for  an  agree- 
able voyage,  especially  as  they  saw  in  me,  not  a  rival  in  commerce  of  any 
kind,  but  a  mere  observer, — u  character  which  I  found,  on  more  than  one 
occasion,  placed  me  on  grounds  of  neutrality  and  advantage.  Steamboats 
are  the  worst  vehicles  ever  invented  by  the  ingenuity  of  man  to  make  ob- 
servations on  a  country,  always  excepting  the  last  improvement  on  loco- 
motive rail-roads.  To  a  naturalist,  especially,  they  are  really  horrible. 
Not  a  tree  or  plant  can  bo  examined  ;  not  a  shell,  or  a  rock  certainly  iden- 
tified. Hundreds  of  miles  are  passed  in  a  few  hours  ;  the  effect  of  speed 
is  to  annihilate  space ;  town  succeeds  town,  and  object  object,  with  such 
rapidity,  tiuit  there  is  no  distinct  time  left  for  observation  or  reflection  ;  and 
after  the  voyager  has  reached  his  point  of  destination,  he  is  often  seriously 
in  doubt,  whnt  he  lias  seen,  and  what  he  has  not  seen,  and  is  as  much  puz- 
zled to  pm  together  the  exact  feature  of  the  country's  geography,  as  if  he 
were  called  to  re-adjust  tlie  broken  incidents  of  a  night's  dream.  I  had 
yet  another  objection  to  this  ciiiss  of  boats,  at  the  era  mentioned.  Their 
boilers  and  machinery  were  not  constructed  with  elaborate  skill  and 
strength  .  their  commanders  were  often  intcmjienite,  and  a  spirit  of  reckkss 
rivaliy  e.\i.st('d,  whoso  results  were  not  infrequently  exhibited  in  exploded 
8unk,  or  grounded  boats,  and  the  loss  of  lives. 

It  is  a  regulation  of  law  that  pilots  are  provided  for  all  boats,  desfeinling 
the  falls — a  descent,  by  the  way,  which  can  only  be  made  on  the  liuliiina 
side.  When  this  officer  came  on  board,  the  owners  thouglil  besi  to  .^ni  \,\ 
knd  to  Shippingport.     1  had  less  at  stake  in  its  safety  than  they,  yet  tell  a 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


21 


iden- 
speed 
such 
;  and 
riously 
1  puz- 
1  if  ho 
I  had 
Their 
ill  and 
ckU'fS 
luJt'd 

I't'iiiliri'^' 
liii!i;ni:i 

■cl  k'll  11 


desire  to  witness  this  novel  mode  of  descent;  nor  did  the  result  disappoint 
me.  Standitii,'-  on  the  deck,  or  rather  flat  roof  of  tiic  ark,  tlu;  viow  was 
interesting  anJ  exciting.  The  first  point  nt  which  tiie  mass  of  water 
breaks  was  the  principal  point  of  danger,  as  there  is  here  a  powerful  re- 
flux, or  eddy  current,  on  the  right  hand,  while  the  main  velocity  of  the 
current  drives  the  vessel  in  a  direction  which,  if  not  checked  by  the  largo 
swee|)S,  would  inevitably  swamp  it.  The  object  is  to  give  this  check,  and 
shoot  her  into  the  eddy  water.  This  was  done.  The  excitement  ceased 
in  a  few  moments,  and  we  passed  the  rest  of  the  way  with  less  exertion 
to  the  men,  and  got  down  the  remainder  of  the  falls  in  perfect  safety.  All 
this  danger  to  the  growing  commerce  of  the  west,  is  now  remedied  by  the 
Louisville  canal,  which,  by  a  work  of  but  two  miles  in  length,  which  holds 
tlic  relative  position  of  a  string  to  the  bow,  connects  the  navigable  waters 
above  and  below  those  falls,  and  permits  all  river  craft  of  the  largest  bur- 
den to  pa.<s. 

It  was  about  the  falls  of  the  Ohio,  or  a  little  above,  that  I  first  saw  the 
gay  and  noisy  paroquet,  or  liule  parrot  of  the  west ;  a  gregarious  bird, 
whose  showy  green  and  yellow  plumage  makes  it  (piite  an  object  to  be 
noticed  and  remembered  in  a  passage  on  the  lower  Ohio.  One  of  these 
birds,  which  had  been  wounded,  was  picked  up  out  of  the  river,  a  few 
miles  below  the  falls.  It  was  evident,  fr'^m  the  occurrence  of  this  species, 
and  other  features  in  the  natural  history  of  the  country,  that  we  were  now 
making  a  rajiid  southing.  The  red-bud,  the  papaw,  the  buckeye,  and  the 
cucumber  tree,  had  all  introduced  themselves  to  notice,  among  the  forest 
species,  below  Pittsburgh  ;  although  they  are  all,  I  think,  actually  known 
to  extend  a  liuIe  north  of  that  latitude;  and  wo  now  soon  had  added  to  the 
catalogue,  the  pecan  and  cypress,  and  the  cane,  with  the  constant  attendant 
of  the  latter,  the  green  briar.  I  had  no  opportunity  to  examine  the  pecan, 
until  we  reached  the  mouth  of  the  Wabash  ami  Shawneetown,  where  I 
went  on  a  shooting  excursion  with  a  young  Kt-ntuckian,  who  gave  me 
the  first  practical  exhibition  of  bringing  down  single  pigeons  and  other 
small  game  with  the  rifl",  by  generally  striking  the  head  or  neck  only. 
I  had  heard  of  this  kind  of  shooting  before,  and  witnessed  some  capital 
still  shots,  but  here  was  a  demonstration  of  it,  in  brush  and  brier — catching 
a  sight  as  best  one  could.  The  ball  used  on  these  occasions  v.as  about 
the  size  of  a  large  buckshot. 

Shawneetown  is  a  word  which  brings  to  mind  one  of  the  North  Ame- 
rican tiilKS,  who,  lutwecn  Hio-J  and  the  present  time,  figure  as  one  of  the 
frontier  actors  in  our  history.  They  have,  in  this  time,  with  the  nbi(|uity 
of  one  of  their  own  genii,  skipped  over  half  America.  They  were  once,  cer- 
tainly dwellers  on  the  Savannah,  if  not,  at  a  still  earlier  day,  on  the  Suanee,in 
Florida;  tiien  fled  north,  a  part  coming  down  the  Kfiitucky  river,  and  a 
part  fleeing  to  the  Delaware,  and  thence  west.  They  are  now  on  the 
Konga,  west  of  the  Mis.souri.     So  much  for  the  association  of  names. 


22 


PERSOKAL    REMINISCENCKS. 


History  never  remembers  any  thing  which  she  can  possibly  forget,  and  I 
found  at  least,  one  high-feeling  personage  here,  who  did  not  like  the  man- 
ner in  which  I  associated  the  modern  town  with  reminiscences  of  the 
savages.  ''Why,  sir,"  said  he,  as  we  walked  the  deck  of  the  ark,  floating 
down  the  Uhio,  and  getting  nearer  the  place  every  moment,  "we  have  a 
bank  there,  and  a  court  house  ;  it  is  the  seat  of  justice  for  Gallatin  county  ; 
—and  a  printing  press  is  about  to  be  established ; — it  is  a  very  thriving 
place,  and  it  bids  fair  to  remain  second  to  nono  below  the  Wabasii"  "  All 
this,  truly,"  I  responded,  willing  to  reprove  pride  in  an  easy  way,  "  is  a  great 
improvement  on  the  wigwam  and  the  council-fire,and  wampum  coin-beads." 
It  is  sometimes  better  to  smile  than  argue,  and  I  found  it  so  on  the  present 
occasion.  I  did  not  wish  to  tread  on  the  Iocs  of  rising  greatness,  or  pour 
upon  a  love  of  home  and  locality,  honorable  and  praise-worthy  in  my 
fellow  traveller,  the  chilling  influence  of  cold  historical  facts.  My  allu- 
sions were  the  mere  eflect  of  the  association  of  ideas,  resulting  from 
names.  If  the  residents  of  Shavvneetown  do  not  like  to  be  associated  with 
the  native  race,  who  would  not  have  exchanged  a  good  bow  and  arrows 
for  all  the  court  houses  in  Christendom,  they  should  bestow  upon  the 
oiace  some  epithet  which  may  sever  the  tie. 


NO.  IV. 


1 


After  stopping  a  day  or  more  at  Shawncetown,  and  reconnoitering  lu 
vicinity,  I  proceeded  to  the  mouth  of  the  Curiberland,  and  from  thence, 
after  many  days  detention  at  tiiat  point  waiting  "br  a  boat,  to  the  mouth  of 
the  Ohio.  I  found  this  to  be  a  highly  interesting  section  of  the  river,  from 
its  great  expanse  and  its  fine  water  prospects.  The  picturesque  calcareous 
clifls  on  the  west  banks,  display  a  novel  and  attractive  line  of  river  scenery. 
The  Ohio  had,  from  its  commencement,  well  sustained  the  propriety  of  its 
ancient  appellation  of  the  Beautiful  River  ;  but  it  here  assumed  something 
more  than  beautiful — it  was  majestic.  Let  it  be  borne  in  mind  that  this 
stream,  in  the  course  of  some  seven  or  eight  hundred  miles  flow  from 
Pittsburg  to  Shawneetown,  had  been  swelled  on  the  right  and  left  hand  by 
the  Scioto,  the  Muskingum,  the  Kentucky,  the  Miami,  Green  River,  Wa- 
bash, and  other  rivers  of  scarcely  inferior  size.  It  is  still  further  aug- 
mented, from  the  left  bank,  with  those  noble  tributaries,  the  Cumberland 
and  Tennessee,  which  bring  in  the  gathered  drain  of  the  middle  ranges 
of  the  Alleghanies.  It  is  below  Shawneetown,  too,  that  the  clifls  of  the 
Cave-in-Rock-Coast  present  themselves  on  the  west  shore — with  their  as- 
sociations of  the  early  robber-era  which  has  been  commemorated  by  the 
pen  of  fiction  of  Charles  BrockJen  Brown.  These  clifls  are  cavernous, 
and  assume  varied  forms.  They  rise  in  bold  elevations,  which  bear  the 
general  nameof  the  Knobs,  but  which  are  well  worthy  of  the  name  of  moun- 
tains. Distinct  from  the  interest  they  have  by  casting  their  castle-like 
shadows,  at  sunset,  in  the  pure  broad  stream,  they  constitute  a  kind 
of  Derbyshire  in  their  fine  purple  spars,  and  crystalizeil  galena  and  other 
mineralogical  attractions.  I  was  told  that  a  German  of  the  name  of  Storch, 
who  pretended  to  occult  knowledge,  h;id,  years  before,  led  money  and 
mineral  diggers  about  these  Knobs,  and  that  he  was  the  discoverer  of  the 
fine  fluatcs  of  lime  found  here. 

One  can  hardly  pass  these  broken  eminences,  with  the  knowledge  that 
they  tally  in  their  calcareous  structure  and  position  with  the  rock  forma- 
tion of  the  Missouri  state  border,  lying  immediately  west  of  them,  without 
regarding  them  us  the  apparent  monuments  of  some  ancient  geological 
change,  which  afl^ected  a  very  wide  space  of  country  north  of  their  pow- 

tion.     A  barrier  of  this  nature,  which  should  link  the  Tennessee  and  M's- 

23 


r" 


24 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


souri  coasts,  at  Grand  Tower,  would  liave  converted  into  an  inland  sea 
the  principal  area  of  the  present  states  of  Illinois,  Indiana,  and  Southern 
Ohio.  The  line  of  separation  in  this  l;\titudo  is  not  great.  It  constitutes 
the  narrowest  point  between  the  ojjposing  rock  formations  of  the  cast  and 
west  shores,  so  far  as  the  latter  rise  through  and  above  the  soil. 

I  was  still  in  a  floating  Monongahcla  arlc  as  we  approached  this  coast 
of  cliffs.  The  day  was  one  of  the  mildest  of  the  month  of  June,  and  the 
surface  of  the  water  was  so  still  and  calm  that  it  presented  the  appearance 
of  a  perfect  mirror.  Our  captain  ordered  alongside  the  skiflj  which  served 
as  his  jolly  boat,  and  directed  the  men  to  land  me  at  the  Great  Cave.  Its 
wide  and  yawning  mouth  gave  expectations,  however,  which  were  not 
realized.  It  closes  rapidly  as  it  is  pursued  into  the  rocic,  and  never  could 
have  afforded  a  safe  shelter  for  gangs  of  robbers  whose  haunts  were 
known.  Tradition  states,  on  this  point,  that  its  mouth  was  formerly  closed 
and  hid  by  ttees  and  foliage,  by  which  means  the  unsuspecting  voyagers 
with  their  upward  freight  were  waylaid.  We  overtook  the  slowly  float- 
ing ark  before  it  had  reached  Hurricane  Island,  and  the  next  land  we 
made  was  at  Sinithfield,  at  the  mouth  of  the  Cumberland.  While  here, 
several  discharged  Tennessee  militiamen,  or  volunteers  from  the  still  un- 
finished Indian  war  in  the  south,  landed  on  their  way  home.  They  were 
equipped  after  the  fashion  of  western  hunters,  with  hunting  shiits  and 
rifles,  and  took  a  manifest  pride  in  declaring  that  they  had  fought  under 
"old  Hickory" — a  term  which  has,  since  that  era,  become  familiar  to  the 
civilized  world.  I  here  first  saw  that  singular  excrescence  in  the  vegeta- 
ble kingdom  called  cypress  knees.  The  point  of  land  between  the 
mouth  of  the  Cumberland  and  Ohio,  was  a  noted  locality  of  the  cypress 
tree.  This  tree  puts  up  from  its  roots  a  blunt  cone,  of  various  size  and 
height,  which  resembles  a  sugar  loaf  !t  is  smooth,  and  without  limb  or 
foliage.  An  ordinary  cone  or  knee  would  measure  eight  inches  in  diam- 
eter, and  thirty  inches  high.  It  would  seem  like  an  aboitive  effi)rt  of  the 
tree  to  put  up  another  growth.  The  paroquet  was  e.xceedingly  aluindant 
at  this  place,  along  the  shores,  and  in  the  woods.  They  told  me  tiiat  this 
bird  rested  by  hooking  its  upper  mandible  to  a  limb.  I  made  srvcral 
shooting  excursions  into  the  neighbouring  forests,  and  remember  that  1 
claimed,  in  addition  to  smaller  trophies  of  these  daily  rambles,  a  shrike 
and  a  hystri.v. 

At  li'ngth  a  keil  boat  came  in  from  the  Illinois  Saline,  commanded  by 
a  Captain  Ensujini.'-er — an  Americo-CMMinan — a  bold,  frank  man,  very 
intelligent  of  things  relating  to  river  navigation.  With  him  I  took  pnss.age 
for  St.  Louis,  ill  .Missouri,  and  we  were  soon  under  weigh,  by  the  force 
of  oars,  for  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  We  stopped  a  short  time  at  a  new 
hamlet  on  the  Illinois  shore,  which  had  been  laid  out  by  some  speculators 
of  Cincinnati,  but  was  remarkable  for  nothing  but  its  name.  It  was 
called,  by  a  kind  of  bathos  in  nomenclature,  "  America."     1  observed  on 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


25 


m 


the  shores  of  the  river  at  tliis  place,  a  very  recent  formation  of  pudJing'- 
stone,  or  rather  a  local  stratinn  of  indurated  pebbles  and  clay,  in  which 
the  cetni'iiting  ingredient  was  the  oxyde  of  iron.     Chalybeate  waters  per- 


colated over  and  auiuiiyst  this  mass.  '1  Ins  was  the  last  glimpse  of  consol- 
idated matter.  All  btlow,  and  indeed  far  above,  was  alluvial,  or  of  recent 
origin.  Nothing  could  exceed  the  fertile  character  of  the  soil,  or  its  rank 
vegetation  and  I'ori'St  groath,  as  we  approached  the  point  of  junction  ;  but 
it  was  a  region  subject  to  periodical  overflows,  the  eras  of  whicli  were  very 
distinctly  marked  liy  tufts  and  bunches  of  grass,  limbs,  and  other  floating 
mattcsr  which  had  been  lodged  and  left  in  the  forks  and  branches  of  trees, 
now  tlfiirn  or  twenty  feet  above  our  heads.  It  was  now  the  first  day  of 
July,  and  I  felt  the  most  intense  interest  as  we  approached  and  came  to  the 
point  of  conlhience.  I  had  followed  the  Ohio,  in  all  its  sinuosities,  a  thou- 
sand niilis.  1  had  spent  more  than  three  months  in  its  beautiful  and  va- 
ried valley  ;  and  I  had  something  of  the  attachment  of  an  old  friend  for  its 
noble  volume,  and  did  not  well  like  to  see  it  about  to  be  lost  in  the  mighty 
Mississippi.  Broad  and  ample  as  it  was,  however,  bringing  in  the  whole 
congregated  drain  of  the  western  slopes  of  the  Alleghanies  and  the  table 
lands  of  the  (jJreat  L'lkes,  the  contest  was  soon  decided.  The  stream  had, 
at  that  season,  sunk  down  to  its  summer  level,  and  exhibited  a  transparent 
blue  volume.  The  Mississij)pi,  on  the  contrary,  was  swelled  by  the  melt- 
ing snows  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  was  in  its  vernal  flood.  Corninfir 
in  at  rather  an  acute  angle,  it  does  not  immediately  arrest  the  former,  but 
throws  its  waters  along  the  Tennessee  shores.  It  runs  with  prodigious 
velocity.  Its  waters  are  thick,  turbid,  and  replete  with  mingled  and  float- 
ing masses  of  sand  and  other  conmiinuted  rock  and  floating  vegetation, 
trees,  and  rubbish.  For  miles  the  line  of  separation  between  the  Ohio  and 
Mississippi  waters  was  visible  by  its  colour  ;  but  long  \jci'oic  it  reaches  the 
Iron  Banks,  the  modern  site  of  Memphis — the  Father  of  Waters,  as  it 
is  poetically,  not  literally,  called — had  prevailed,  and  held  on  its  way  to 
make  new  contpiests  of  the  St.  Francis,  the  White,  the  Arkansas,  and 
other  noble  streams. 

Our  captain,  although  he  had  no  lack  of  sidf-confidence,  did  not  seem  to 
be  in  hast.;  to  grapple  with  this  new  foe,  by  plunging  at  once  into  the  tur- 
bid stream,  but  determined  to  try  it  next  morning.  This  left  me.  a  good 
part  of  the  day.  in  a  position  where  there  was  not  much  to  reward  inrpiiry. 
I  fislied  awhile  from  the  boat's  side,  hut  was  rewanled  with  nothing 
besides  a  gar,  a  kind  of  sword,  or  rather  billed  fisli,  which  appears  to  be 
provided  with  this  appi-iiilage  to  stir  tip  its  fond  or  pii'v  from  a  muddy 
bottom.  Its  scales  jind  skin  are  nearly  as  hard  and  compact  as  a  shark's, 
and  its  flesh  is  erpially  valiiele.-^s.  It  is  at  tliis  point  that  the  town  of  Cairo 
has  sinci'  been  huMted.  Th(MO  were,  at  the  period  mentioned,  several 
arks  and  flat-})oats  lying  on  tlw  higher  banks,  wh.'re  th(;y  had  been  moored 
in  high  water.     These  now  served  as  dwellings,  and  by  cutting  doors  in 


c 


26 


PERSONAL    RRMINISCENCEa. 


I  '       '■'! 


in 


il 


\t 


V 


their  sides  tlicy  formed  rude  groceries  and  provision  stores.  Whatever 
else,  however,  was  to  be  seen  at  so  low  and  nascent  a  point,  the  mosquito 
as  night  came  on,  soon  convinced  us  that  he  was  the  true  magnate  of  those 
dominions. 

The  ne.xt  morning  at  an  early  hour  our  stout-hearted  commander  put 
his  boatmen  in  motion,  and  turned  his  keel  into  the  torient;  but  such  was 
the  velocity  of  the  water,  and  its  opacity  and  thick  turbidncss,  that  I 
thought  we  should  have  been  precipitated  down  stream,  and  hurled  against 
sunken  logs.  Those  who  have  ascended  this  stream  in  the  modern  era 
of  steamboats,  know  nothing  of  these  difficulties.  It  seemed  impnssilile  to 
stem  the  current.  A  new  mode  of  navigation,  to  me  at  least,  was  to  be 
tried,  and  it  was  evidently  one  which  the  best  practised  and  stoutest-hearted 
men  by  no  means  relished.  These  boats  are  furnished  with  a  plank  walk 
on  each  side,  on  which  slats  are  nailed  to  give  a  foothold  to  the  men. 
Each  man  has  a  pole  of  ash  wood  about  IG  feet  long,  with  a  wooden  knob 
at  the  head  to  rest  against  the  shoulder,  and  a  blunt  point  at  the  other  end 
shod  with  iron,  Planting  these  upon  the  bottom  near  shore,  with  their 
heads  facing  down  stream,  the  men  bend  all  their  force  upon  them,  pro- 
pelling the  boat  by  their  feet  in  the  contrary  direction.  This  is  a  very 
laborious  and  slow  mode  of  ascent,  which  has  now  been  entirely  super- 
seded on  the  main  rivers  by  the  use  of  steam. 

Such  is  the  fury  and  velocity  of  the  current,  that  it  threatens  at  every 
freshet  to  tear  down  and  burst  asunder  its  banks,  and  run  lawless  through 
the  country.  Often  whole  islands  are  swept  away  in  a  short  time.  We 
had  an  instance  of  this  one  night,  when  the  island  against  which  we  were 
moored,  began  to  tumble  into  the  channel,  threatening  to  overwhelm  iis  by 
the  falling  earth  and  the  recoil  of  the  waves,  and  we  got  away  to  the  main 
shore  with  much  effort,  for  night  was  set  in,  the  current  furious,  and  the 
shore  to  which  we  were  going  entirely  unknown.  To  have  struck  a 
sunken  log  on  such  a  traverse,  under  such  circumstances,  must  have  been 
fatal.  We  got  at  length  upon  a  firm  shore,  where  we  moored  and  turned 
in  at  a  late  hour;  but  a  curious  cause  of  alarm  a.qrain  roused  us.  Some 
animal  had  made  its  appearance  on  the  margin  of  the  stream,  not  far  below 
us,  which  in  the  dimness  of  the  night  appeared  to  be  a  bear.  All  who 
had  arms,  got  them,  and  there  was  quite  a  bustle  and  no  little  excitement 
among  the  cabin  passengers.  The  most  knowing  pronoimced  it  to  be  a 
white  bear.  It  produced  a  snorting  sound  resembling  it.  It  seemed  furi- 
ous. Both  ichite  and  furious  it  certainly  was,  but  after  much  delay,  com- 
mendable caution,  and  no  want  of  the  display  of  cournge,  it  fnied  out  to 
be  a  large  wounded  hoe.  which  had  been  shot  in  the  snout  ynd  iiead,  and 
came  to  allay  its  fevered  and  festered  flesh,  by  night,  in  the  waters  of  the 
Mississippi. 

To  stem  the  current  along  this  portion  of  the  river  required  almost 
superhuman  power.     Often  not  more  than  a  few  miles  can  be  made  with 


PERSONAL.    REMIXISCKNCES. 


a  hard  day's  exertions.  We  wont  the  first  day  six  miles,  the  second  about 
the  same  distance,  and  the  third  eijjht  miles,  which  brought  us  to  the  first 
ciihivated  land  along  a  low  district  of  the  west  shoie,  called  the  Tyt'wapcty 
Bottom.  There  were  six  or  eight  small  farms  at  this  spot ;  the  land  rich, 
and  said  to  be  quite  well  adapted  for  corn,  flax,  hemp,  and  tobacco.  I  ob- 
served here  the  p;ipaw.  The  next  day  we  ascended  but  three  miles  and 
stopped,  the  crew  being  found  too  weak  to  procued.  Whili;  moored  to  the 
banU,  we  were  passed  by  several  lio:as  destined  for  St.  Louis,  which  were 
loaded  with  pine  boards  and  plank  from  Glean,  on  the  sources  uf  the  Al- 
leghany. They  told  us  that  sixty  dollars  per  thousand  feet  could  be  ob- 
tained for  them. 

Additional  men  having  been  hired,  we  went  forward  the  ne.xt  day  to  a 
point  which  is  called  the  Little  Chain  of  Hocks,  where,  from  sickness  in 
some  of  the  hands,  another  halt  became  necessary.  It  is  at  this  point  that 
the  firm  cherty  clay,  or  diluvial  soil  of  the  Missomu  shore,  fiist  presents 
itself  on  the  banks  of  the  river.  This  soil  is  of  a  sterile  and  mineral  cha- 
racter. I  noticed  beneath  the  first  elevated  point  of  it,  near  the  river's  edge, 
a  locality  of  white  compact  earth,  which  is  called  chalk,  and  is  actually 
used  as  such  by  mechanics.  On  giving  a  specimen  of  it,  after  my  return 
to  New  York  in  1819,  to  Mr.  John  Griscom,  he  found  it  completely  desti- 
tute of  carbonic  acid  ;  it  appears  to  be  a  condition  of  alumine  or  nearly 
pure  clay.  Large  masses  of  pudding-stone,  disrupted  from  their  original 
position,  were  seen  lying  along  the  shore  at  this  locality,  being  similar  in 
their  character  to  that  seen  on  approaching  the  mouth  of  the  Ohio. 

We  ascended  the  river  this  day  ten  miles,  and  the  next  five  miles,  which 
brought  us  to  Cape  Girardeau,  at  the  estimated  distance  of  fifty  miles  above 
the  mouth  of  the  Ohio.  At  this  place  I  was  received  whh  attention  by  one 
of  the  principal  residents,  who,  on  learning  that  my  object  was  to  examine 
the  natural  history  of  the  country,  invited  me  to  his  house.  In  rambling 
the  vicinity,  they  showed  me  a  somewhat  extra  but  dilapidated  and 
deserted  house,  which  had  been  built  b  one  Loramee,  a  Spanish  trader, 
who  has  left  his  name  on  one  of  the  branches  of  the  river  St.  Mary's  of 
Indiana.  This  old  fabric  excited  a  strong  interest  in  my  mind  as  I  walked 
through  its  open  doors  and  deserted  rooms,  by  a  popular  story,  how  true  I 
know  not,  that  the  occupant  had  been  both  a  rapacious  and  cruel  man, 
siding  with  the  Indians  in  the  hostilities  against  our  western  people  ;  and 
that  he  had,  on  one  occasion,  taken  a  female  captive,  and  whh  his  own 
hands  cut  ofl^her  breasts. 

The  journey  from  Cape  Girardeau  to  St.  Louis  occupied  nineteen  days, 
and  was  fraught  with  scenes  and  incidents  of  interest,  which  I  should  de- 
tail with  pleasure  were  it  compatible  with  my  limits.  Indeed,  every  day's 
voyage  along  this  varied  and  picturesque  shore  presented  objects  of  remark, 
which  both  commended  themselves  to  my  taste,  and  which  the  slow  mode 
of  ascent  gave  me  full  means  to  improve.     This  might  be  said  particularly 


28 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCEE 


of  its  gf'ologicul  struntureand  its  miiioralogicnl  productions — themes  which 
were  llicii  lit'sii  and  new,  l)iit  which  iiave  lost  much  of  their  attractions  by 
till-  progress  which  natural  scierico  has  made  in  the  country  during  six 
and  twenty  yen  is.  'J'o  these  topics  it  is  the  less  necessary  to  revert,  as 
they  were  embraced  in  the  results  of  my  tour,  given  in  my  "  View  of  the 
Miiips.''  pui-lished  in  1819. 

'l"he  article  improperly  called  pumice,  which  floats  down  the  Missouri 
during  its  floods,  from  the  burning  coal  banks  in  the  Black  Hills,  I  first 
picked  up  on  the  shore  in  the  ascent  above  Cape  Girardeau,  and  it  gave 
mo  an  intimation  that  tlie  waters  had  commenced  falling.  We  came  to, 
the  same  night,  at  a  well  known  fountain,  called  the  Moccasin  Spring,  a 
copious  and  fine  spring  of  crystal  v.'ater,  which  issues  from  an  elongated 
orihce  in  the  limestone  rock. 

While  lying  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  Obrazo,  where  we  were  detained 
on  account  o''  hands,  several  boats  touched  at  the  place,  carrying  emigrants 
from  Vermont  and  New  York,  whose  destination  was  the  most  westerly 
settlements  on  the  Missouri.  At  higher  points  in  the  ascent  we  encoun- 
tered emi^riants  from  Maine,  Connecticut,  Pennsylvania,  Noith  Carolina, 
and  Kentucky,  which  denotes  the  wide  range  of  the  spirit  of  migration  at 
the  era.  The  ends  of  the  Union  seemed  to  be  brought  together  by  this 
general  movement  towards  the  west.  It  was  not  uncomnmn  to  find  rep- 
rcseutnlives  from  a  great  number  of  the  states  in  these  accidental  meetings; 
they  were  always  of  a  social  and  highly  friendly  character,  and  the  cd'eci 
of  such  a  system  of  intercommunication  and  residence,  from  districts  widely 
separated,  could  not  but  be  highly  auspicious  in  promoting  uniformity  of 
manners  and  opinions,  and  assimilating  customs,  dress,  and  language. 
If  long  continued  it  must  destroy  provincialisms,  and  do  much  to  annihilate 
local  prejudices. 

Every  one  who  has  ascended  this  stream  will  recollect  the  isolated  clifT, 
standintr  iu  its  waters,  called  Grand  Tower,  with  the  corresponding  de- 
velopments of  the  coast  on  the  contiguous  shores,  which  tell  the  traveller 
plainly  enough  that  here  is  the  site  of  some  ancient  disruptive  process  in 
the  physical  history  of  the  valley.  'I'he  current  has  an  increased  velocity 
in  sweeping  around  this  obstacle  ;  and  we  found,  as  the  waters  fell,  that 
there  were  numerous  eddies  and  strong  jets  or  currents  along  this  precipi- 
tous coast,  which  it  recpiired  e.xtra  force  to  surmount.  We  saw  one  day  a 
number  of  pelicans  standing  on  a  sandbar.  The  wild  turkey  and  quail 
were  daily  encountered  on  shore. 

Our  approach  to  vSt.  Genevieve  was  preceded  by  a  sight  of  one  of  those 
characteristic  features  in  all  the  early  French  settlements  in  this  quarter — 
the  great  public  field  extending  several  miles,  five  miles  I  think,  along  the 
banks  of  the  river.  St  Genevieve  itself  lies  about  a  mile  from  the  river, 
and  is  concealed  by  irregularities  in  the  surface.  It  is  a  highly  charac- 
teristic antiipie  l'"rench  town,  and  reminds  one  strongly  of  the  style  and 


PERSONAL    REMIMSCEXCES. 


:>tod  clifT, 


manner  of  biiililin^f  of  the  provincial  villngi's  and  towns  of  tlio  parent 
country, as  still  existing.  Three  miles  above  this  jijuco  we  cnine  to  a  noted 
point  of  crossing  calletl  the  Little  Hock  Ferry  ;  a  spot  worthy  of  note  at 
that  time  as  the  resilience  of  a  very  aged  Frenciunan,  called  Le  Unton. 
Statements  which  are  believed  to  be  true,  made  him  lU'J  years  old.  From 
his  own  account  he  was  at  the  seige  of  Hergen-op-zooin,  in  Flanders;  at 
the  seige  of  Louislmrg;  at  the  building  of  Fort  Chartres,  in  lliniois;  and 
at  liiiuidoclv's  defeat.  After  his  dis'-h-trge,  he  discoveretl  those  extensive 
lead  mines  in  Washington  county,  about  forty  miles  west  of  the  river, 
which  still  bear  his  name. 

The  coast  between  St.  Cjenevieve  and  Herculanemn  is  almost  one  con- 
tinuous cliifof  precipitous  rocks,  which  are  broken  through  chiefly  at  the 
points  where  rivers  and  streams  discharge.     Herculaneurn  itself  is  seated 


on  one  o 


f  tl 


lese  lun 


ited 


•earns 
areas, 


he 


mmeU  ni 


ill's 


m  this  case. 


were  rendered  still  more  picturesijue  by  their  elevated  shot  towers.  I 
landed  at  this  place  about  noon  of  my  twenty-second  day's  ascent,  and  find- 
ing it  a  convenient  avenue  to  the  mine  district,  determined  to  leave  my 
baggage  at  a  hotel  till  my  return  from  St.  Louis,  and  pursue  the  rest  of  the 
journey  to  that  place  on  foot.  It  was  at  this  point  that  I  was  hitroduced  to 
Mr.  Austin,  the  elder,  who  warmly  approved  my  plan  of  exploring  the 
mines,  and  oflined  every  facility  in  his  power  to  further  it.  Mr.  Austin 
was,  he  informed  me  at  a  subsequent  stage  of  our  ac(|uaintancc,  a  native 
of  Connecticut.  He  had  gone  early  into  Virginia  and  settled  at  Richmond, 
where  his  eldest  son  was  born,  and  atterwards  removed  to  Wythe  county. 
In  1778  he  went  into  Upper  Louisiana,  enduring  severe  sulferings  and 
the  risk  of  life,  in  crossing  the  country  by  way  of  Vincenncs  to  St.  liouis, 
where  he  was  well  received  by  the  Spanish  local  governor.  He  obtained 
a  grant  of  land  in  the  present  area  of  Washington  county,  the  principal 
seat  of  the  oUer  mines.  About  the  time  I  went  to  Missouri,  or  soon  after 
it,  he  resolved  to  visit  San  Antonio,  in  Texas,  with  a  view  of  introducing 
a  colony  of  Americans  into  that  t]uarter.  This  plan  he  carried  into  execu- 
tion, I  think,  in  1820,  and  returned  with  an  ample  grant;  but  he  did  not 
live  to  carry  its  stipulations  into  effect,  having  died  suddenly  after  his 
return,  at  the  house  of  his  daughter,  Mrs.  Bryant,  at  Hazel  lliui. 

Mr.  Austin  was  a  man  of  great  zeal  and  fervour  of  imagination,  and  en- 
tered very  warmly  into  all  his  plans  and  views,  whatever  they  were.  He 
was  hospitable,  frank,  intelligent,  and  it  is  with  feelings  of  unmixed  plea- 
sure, that  [  revert  to  my  acquaintance  with  him,  no  less  than  with  his  talented 
son,  Stephen,  and  the  e.xcellent,  benign,  and  lady-like  Mrs.  Austin,  and 
other  members  of  this  intelligent  family. 


I 

III    I 


'    1 


NO.  V, 


Herculankijm  had  nothing  in  common  with  its  sombre  Italian  proto- 
type, which  has  been  dug  out  of  dust  and  ashes  in  modern  time?;  but  ita 
name.  Instead  of  buried  p;ilaccs  and  ruins  of  a  hixurious  ago  of  marble, 
bronze  and  silver,  most  of  the  houses  were  built  of  squared  oak  loirs,  and 
had  bulliy  old  fashioned  chimneys,  built  outside  with  a  kind  of  cnscelated 
air,  as  they  are  seen  in  the  old  French  and  Dutch  settlements  in  Canada, 
and  along  the  vallies  of  the  Hudson  and  Mohawk.  The  arts  of  painting 
and  gilding  and  cornices,  had  not  yet  extended  their  empire  here.  Mr. 
Austin's  residence,  was  the  only  exception  to  this  remark,  I  remember. 
The  Courts  of  Justice  were  content  to  hold  their  sessions  in  one  of  the 
oaken  timber  buildings  named  ;  the  county  jail  had  a  marvellous  re- 
semblance to  an  ample  smoke-house,  and  my  kind  'i>~'?t,  Ellis,  who  was  a  na- 
tive of  South  Carolina,  was  content  to  serve  up  suostant-al  and  good  cheer 
in  articles,  not  exhumed  from  a  city  buried  in  volcanic  ashes,  but  in  plain 
fabrics  of  Staflbrdshire  and  Birmingham.  In  addition  to  the  host-like  and 
agreeable  resort,  which  travellers  unexpectedly  found  at  his  hands,  in  a 
mansion  whose  exterior  gave  no  such  signs,  he  presided  over  the  depart- 
ment of  a  public  ferry,  established  at  this  place,  across  the  wild  and  fluc- 
tuating Mississippi;  and  had  he  kept  note  book,  he  could  have  given 
account  of  many  a  one,  from  other  lands,  with  golden  hopes  of  the  far 
west,  whom  ho  had  safely  conducted,  against  the  most  adverse  floods,  to 
the  Missouri  shore.  I  found  a  few  old  books  at  his  house,  which  showed 
that  there  had  been  readers  in  his  family,  and  which  helped  to  while 
away  moments,  which  every  traveller  will  find  on  his  hands. 

I  have  intimated  that  there  was  nothing  in  the  way  of  the  antique,  in 
Herculaneum,  but  its  name.  To  this  I  might  add,  that  there  was  no  ex- 
ception, imless  it  be  found  in  the  impressions  of  objects,  in  the  structure 
of  the  rocks,  in  this  quarter,  denoting  a  prior  age  of  existence.  I  was 
shown  an  impression,  in  the  surface  of  a  block  of  limestone,  quarried  here, 
which  was  thought  to  resemble  a  man's  foot.  It  did  not  appear  to  me  to 
bear  this  similitude,  but  was  rather  to  be  referred  to  some  organic  extinct 
forms,  which  are  not  yet  well  understood. 

Having  passed  a  couple  of  days  here,  I  set  out  early 


mov 
30 


ning, 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 


31 


on  foot,  for  St.  Louis,  accompanied  by  two  young  men  from  Pennsylvania, 
with  whom  I  iiad  become  acquainted  on  prior  parts  of  my  route.  They 
had  come  with  an  adventure  of  merchandize  from  the  waters  of  the 
Yiougliagany,  and  were  desirous  of  seeing  the  (then)  capitol  of  the  Terri- 
tory. Nothing  untoward  occurred,  until  we  reached  and  crossed  the 
liver  Merrimack,  where  night  overtook  us,  and  set  in  with  intense  dark- 
ness, just  as  we  reached  tlie  opposite  shore.  There  was  but  one  house  in 
llio  vicinity  ;  and  not  distant  more  than  a  mile,  but  such  was  the  intensity 
of  the  darkness,  owing  to  clouds  and  a  gathering  storm,  that  we  lost  the 
road,  wandered  in  the  woods  for  some  hours,  during  which  the  rain  com- 
menced, and  were  at  length  directed  to  the  house  we  sought,  by  the  faint 
and  occasional  tinkling  of  a  cow  bull. 

We  travelled  t!iO  ne.xt  morning  twelve  miles,  to  breakfast  at  the  antique 
looking  village  of  Carondalct.  The  route  lies  over  an  elevated  tract  of 
uplands,  eligibly  situated  on  the  right  bank  of  the  Mississippi,  in  which 
a  growth  of  wild  prairie  grass  and  llowers,  filled  up  the  broad  spaces  be- 
tween the  trees.  Tiiere  was  no  habitation  visible  on  the  route — a  stand- 
mg  spring  midcr  a  ledge  of  rocks,  about  half  way,  was  the  only  spot 
where  we  could  get  a  drop  of  water  to  allay  our  thirst — for  it  was  a  hot 
August  day.  We  encountered  several  deer,  and  from  the  frequent  occur- 
rence of  their  tracks,  deemed  such  an  occurrence  to  be  common.  It  is  on 
this  elevated  and  airy  tract,  that  the  site  of  JefTerson  Barracks,  has  since 
been  judiciously  established  by  the  government. 

Beyond  Carondalet,  the  country  has  the  appearance  of  a  grown-up 
heath.  It  is  a  bushy  uninviting  tract,  without  mature  forest  trees.  The 
most  interesting  feature  we  saw,  consisted  of  a  number  of  regular  depres- 
sions, or  cup-shaped  concavities  in  the  soil,  caused  by  the  passage  of 
springs  over  a  clay  basis,  upon  which  there  is  deposited  a  heavy  diluvial 
stratum  of  sand,  mixed  earth  and  pebbles.  Within  about  three  miles  of  the 
city,  this  heathy  and  desolate  tract  began  to  assume  a  cultivated  character  ; 
dwellings  and  gardens  soon  succeeded,  and  we  found  ourselves,  by  almost 
imperceptible  grades,  introduced  into  the  city,  which  we.  reached  about 
four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  On  entering  its  ancient  Spanish  barriers, 
we  noticed  one  of  the  old  stone  towers,  or  defences,  which  constituted  a 
part  of  the  enclosure.  Tliis  town,  I  afterwards  learned,  had  been  regu- 
larly walled  and  fortified,  during  the  possession  of  the  country  by  the 
Spanish  crown.  As  soon  as  I  had  taken  lodgings,  I  called  on  R.  Petti- 
bone  Esq.,  a  friend  formerly  of  Vernon,  in  western  N.  Y.  who  had  estab- 
lished himself  in  this  central  city  of  the  west,  in  the  practice  of  the  law; 
he  was  not  in,  at  the  moment,  but  his  family  received  me  with  cordiality. 
He  returned  my  visit  in  the  evening,  and  insisted  on  my  taking  up  my 
quarters  at  his  house.  Tiie  time  that  I  spent  here,  was  devoted  to  the 
most  prominent  objects  which  the  town  and  its  vicinity  presented  to  in- 
terest a  stranger,  such  as  the  private  m\  ,eum  of  the  late  Gen.  VVm.  Clark, 


li 


32 


PKUSONAL    UKMINISCKN'CES. 


I'i 


coiitmmnj''  many  articles  of  lii-li  and  valiiaMo  Iiulian  cnstiirnn;  the  larije 
naltiral  iiioiinda  aljuvi;  tin;  city,  aiiii  tlio  cliaractcr  of  tlio  mcit  Idniiation 
aloii^r  tin;  shores  ot'tiic  river,  which  was  said  to  have  had  llic  niijirii^sidiis 
of  human  foft,  on  its  original  surliicc.  The  latti-r  1  did  not  sen  till  tlio 
Slimmer  oC  1821,  uliun  the  IiIkcU  of  stone  containin;,'  tlieni  was  examined 
in  Mr.  l{a|)j»'.s  ^Mrden,  at  Harmony,  on  thii  Wahai'li. 

My  inclinal'oiis  haviiii,'  led  me,  at  lliis  time,  to  visit  the  rxtcn^ive  lead 
minis.  southweM  of  this  city,  on  tiie  wateis  of  tin?  MerrimM<d<,  I  l(i*t  no 
time  in  retracinir  my  way  to  Herciilaneiun,  hy  desrendiiiy;  the  Mi^si.'sippi. 

When  1  was  prepared  to  descend  the  liver,  the  two  jrcnilemen  who 
had  been  my  travelling''  companions,  on  the  joiiriH'v  up.  had  ciiinpleted 
the  business  ol'  their  adventure,  and  ofli'ied  me  a  seat,  in  a  small  boat, 
iindur  their  control.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  o(  the  day  that  ibis 
arrangement  was  proposed,  and  it  was  duslc  before  we  etnliarked  ;  but  it 
was  thought  the  village  of  Cahokia,  some  five  or  si.\  niib  s  below,  rould 
bo  reached  in  good  season.  A  humid  and  misty  atmos])liere  rendered  tbo 
niLrht  (jtiito  dark',  ami  we  soiai  found  our.selves  afloit  on  the  bioail  current 
of  the  stream,  without  knowing  our  position,  for  it  was  too  intensely  dark 
to  descry  the  outlines  of  either  shore,  iieing  in  a  light  open  boat,  we 
were  not  only  in  some  peril,  from  running  foul  of  drifting  trees,  but  it 
became  disagreeably  cold,  (hi  ])utting  in  for  the  Illinois  shore,  a  low 
sandy  bar,  or  shoal  was  made,  but  one  of  my  (!ompanions  who  had  landed 
came  running'  back  with  an  account  of  a  bear  and  her  culi,  which  caused 
us  to  push  on  iibout  a  mile  further,  where  we  passed  the  night,  witboii- 
beds  or  fire.  Daylight  di.sclosed  to  us  the  fact  that  we  had  jiassed  Caho- 
kia :  we  then  crossed  over  to  the  Missouri  shore,  and  having  taken  break- 
fast at  Caronilalet,  continued  the  voyage,  without  any  further  misadven- 
ture, and  reached  Herculaneum  at  noon. 

I  lost  no  time  in  ])repariiig  to  visit  the  mines,  and  having  made  arrange- 
ments for  my  baggage  to  follow,  set  out  on  foot  for  Potosi.  The  first  day 
I  proceeded  eighteen  miles,  and  reached  Steeples,  at  the  head  of  the 
Zwoshau,  or  Joachim  river,  at  an  early  hour.  'I'lio  day  was  excessively 
hot,  and  the  road  lay  for  the  greater  part  of  the  distance,  over  a  ridge  of 
land,  which  aflorded  no  water,  and  very  little  shelter  from  the  sun's  rays. 
I  met  not  a  solitary  individual  on  the  route,  and  with  the  exception  of  the 
small  swift  footed  lizard,  common  to  the  way  side,  and  a  single  wild  turkey, 
nothing  in  the  animal  kingdom.  The  antlers  of  the  deer  frequently  seen 
above  the  grass,  denoted  it  however  to  abound  in  that  animal.  I  was  con- 
strained while  pa.*sing  this  dry  tract,  to  all.iy  my  thirst  at  a  jiool,  in  a  rut, 
not,  however,  without  having  disconcerted  a  wild  turkey,  which  had  come 
ajiparently  for  the  same  purpose. 

Ne.vt  day  I  crossed  the  valley  of  Grand  or  Big  river,  as  it  is  commonly 
called,  and  at  the  distance  of  twelve  miles  from  the  Joachim,  I  entered  the 
mining  village  of  Shibboleth — the  feudal  seat,  so  to  say,  of  the  noted 


FRilSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


"John  Smith  T."  of  whose  sinn;nluritips  rumour  hnd  nlrcndynppri/od  me. 
H»MO  WHS  n  novrl  scene.  Caiis  pjissin*,'  \viil»  loiuls  of  ore — sniolliiig  fur 
n.ii:<-s,  iiii'l  (ixtiiirx,  iinil  the  li;iir-liiiritfr,  Icilf-diriiu'r  costumes  of  the  ffioiip 
01  men  who  u  re  congregated  iiIkuiI  the  |)rinoi|)iil  store,  told  me  very 
plainly,  that  1  was  now  in  the  miiiiug  region.  liead  digirin'r  and  dis- 
covering, and  the  singular  liap-iiazards  of  men  who  had  suddenly  g'lt  rivh 
by  finding  ricli  beds  of  ore,  and  suddenly  got  poor  liy  some  folly  or  e.<trtt- 
vaLTtnce,  n^ivv.  a  strong  colouiing  to  the  whole  tone  of  conversulioii  at  this 
spot,  whi  h  was  carried  on  neither  in  tlic  mildest  or  most  unobtrusive  way . 
quite  a  vocabulary  of  mnv  technical  words  burst  upon  me,  of  which  it  was 
neces.sary  to  get  the  correct  import.  1  had  before  heard  of  the  |)relty 
term,  "mineral  blossom,"  as  the  local  name  for  radiated  <|Uartz,  but  li(!re 
were  tilf  (sulphate  of  barytes),  glass  tifT  (calcareous  spar),  "  mineral  sign," 
and  a  dozen  other  woids,  to  he  found  in  no  books.  At  the  head  of  these 
new  terms  stood  the  popular  word  "mineral,"  which  invariably  meant 
galena,  and  nothing  else.  'I'o  hunt  mineral,  to  dig  mineral,  and  to  smeit 
mineral,  were  so  many  operations  connected  with  the  reduclii)n  of  the 
ores  of  galena. 

I  soon  foii.i'l  tile  group  of  men  about  the  village  store,  was  a  company 
of  militia,  and  that  I  was  in  the  midst  of  what  New  Yorkers  call  a  "train- 
ing," which  I'xplaiiied  the  hunter  aspect  I  had  noticed.  They  were 
armed  with  rifle-;,  and  dressed  in  their  every  day  leather  or  cotton  hunting 
shirts.  The  ofricers  were  not  distinguished  from  the  men,  either  because 
ewords  were  not  easily  procured,  or  more  probably,  because  they  did  not 
wish  toappear  with  so  inellicient  and  useless  an  arm.  "  Food  for  powder," 
was  the  fiisl  ti;rm  tint  occurred  to  me  on  first  surveying  this  group  of  men, 
but  nothing  could  have  been  more  inapjwsite ;  for  although  like  "loan 
Jack's"  men,  tliey  had  but  little  skill  in  standing  in  a  right  line,  never 
were  men  Ijeiter  skilled  for  personal  combat, — fiom  the  specimens  given,  I 
believe  there  was  hardly  a  man  present,  who  coiild  not  drive  a  built  t  into 
the  size  of  a  dollar  at  a  hundred  yards.  No  man  was  better  skilled  in  tliis 
art,  either  with  rifle  or  pistol,  than  the  Don  of  the  village,  the  said  J(din 
Smith  T,  or  his  brother,  called  "the  Major,"  neither  of  whom  travelled, 
or  eat,  or  slrpt,  as  I  afterwards  witnessed,  without  their  arms.  During 
my  subsequent  rambles  iii  llie  mine  country,  I  have  sat  at  the  same  table, 
slept  in  the  same  room,  and  enjoyed  the  cnnveisation  of  one  or  the  other, 
and  can  say,  that  tlbdr  e.xtraordinary  habit  of  going  fully  armed,  was 
united  in  both  with  courteous  manners,  honoiiralile  sentiments,  and  high 
chivalric  notions  of  personiil  independoucc  ;  and  1  had  occasion  to  notice, 
that  it  was  none  but  their  personal  enemies,  or  opponents  in  business,  that 
dealt  in  vituperation  against  them.  John  Smith  T.  was  doubtless  a  man 
of  singular  and  capricious  humours,  and  a  most  fiery  spirit,  wdien  aroused," 
of  which  scores  of  anecdotes  arc  afloat.  He  was  at  variance  with  several 
of  his  most  conspicuous  neighbours,  and,  if  he  be  likened  to  the  lion  of 


34 


PERSONAL    REMINISCKNCES. 


the  forest,  it  will  be  perfectly  just  to  add,  that  most  of  the  lesser  animals 
stood  in  fear  of  him. 

My  stop  here  had  consumed  some  time,  but  thinking  I  could  still  reach 
Mine  a  Burton,  I  pushed  on,  but  had  only  proceeded  a  couple  of  miles 
when  I  was  hastily  compelled  to  seek  shelter  from  an  impending  shower. 
As  it  was  late,  and  the  storm  continued,  1  remained  at  a  farm  house,  at 
Old  Mines  during  the  night.  They  gave  me  a  supper  of  rich  fresh 
milk  and  fine  corn  bread.  In  the  morning,  a  walk  of  three  miles  brought 
me  to  Potosi,  where  I  took  lodgings  at  Mr.  Ficklin's,  proprietor  of  the 
principal  inn  of  the  place.  Mr.  F.  was  a  native  of  Kentucky,  a  man  of 
open  frank  manners,  and  most  kind  benevolent  feelings,  who  had  seen 
much  of  frontier  life,  had  lived  a  number  of  years  in  Missouri,  and  now 
at  a  rather  advanced  period  of  life,  possessed  a  fund  of  local  knowledge 
and  experience,  the  communication  of  which  rendered  the  time  I  spent  at 
his  house  both  profitable  and  pleasing. 

I  reached  Potosi  on  the  second  of  August.  The  next  day  was  the  day 
of  the  county  election*,  which  brought  together  the  principal  miners  and 
agricultural  gentlemen  of  the  region,  and  gave  me  a  favourable  oppor- 
tunity of  forming  acquaintance,  and  making  known  the  object  of  my  visit. 
I  was  particularly  indebted  to  the  civilities  of  Stephen  F.  Austin,  Esq. 
for  these  introductions.  During  my  stay  in  the  country  he  interested 
himself  in  my  success,  omitted  no  opportunity  of  furthering  my  views,  and 
extending  my  acquaintance  with  the  geological  features  and  resources  of 
the  country.  He  offered  me  an  apartment  in  the  old  family  mansion  of 
Durham  Hall,  for  the  reception  and  accumulation  of  my  collections. 
Mr.  Bates  and  sons,  Mr.  Jones  and  sons,  Mr.  Perry  and  brothers,  Mr. 
Elliot,  Mr.  Brickey,  Mr.  Honey  and  others,  seconded  these  civilities.  In- 
deed the  friendly  and  obliging  disposition  I  uniformly  met  with,  from  the 
inhabitants  of  the  mines,  and  the  mine  country  generally,  is  indelibly  im- 
pressed on  my  memory 

I  was  now  at  the  capital  of  the  mines,  and  in  a  position  most  favour- 
able for  obtaining  true  information  of  their  ciiaracter  and  value. 
Three  montlis  devoted  to  this  object  left  scarcely  a  nook  of  the  country 
which  I  had  not  either  personally  explored,  or  obtained  authentic 
information  of  I  found  foity-five  principal  mines,  or  mineral  diggings 
as  some  of  them  are  Cfilled,  within  a  circumference  of  less  than  forty 
miles.  Potosi,  ami  its  vicinity  yielded  annually  iibout  three  millions 
of  pounds  of  lead,  and  furnished  employment  to  the  estimated  num- 
ber, of  eleven  to  twelve  hundred  hands.  The  business  was  however  de- 
pressed, like  almost  every  other  branch  of  domestic  arts  or  industry, 
after  the  peace  of  1814,  owing  to  the  great  influx  and  low  prices  of 

•  About  70  votes  were  polled  in  the  town  of  Potosi.  Mr.  Austin,  the  younger,  was 
returned  by  the  county  to  tlie  Territorial  Legblature. 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


35 


foreign  products,  and  the  general  derangement  ot  currency  and  credit 
Prepared  ore,  delivered  at  the  furnaces,  was  worth  two  dollars  per  cwt, 
paid  chiefly  in  mcrchaniiize.  Pig  lead  sold  at  four  dollars,  at  the  mines ; 
and  but  half  a  dollar  higher  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  was 
quoted  at  seven  dollars  in  the  Athintic  cities.  Judged  from  these  data, 
chere  appeared  no  adequate  cause  for  the  alleged  depression  ;  for  in  addi- 
tion to  the  ordinary  merchant's  profit,  in  the  disposition  of  his  stock  to  the 
opcnitive  miner  or  digger  of  ore,  a  profit  of  one  cent  and  a  half  per  pound 
was  left,  over  and  above  the  cost  of  transportation  to  an  eastern  market ; 
besides,  the  difference  in  exchange,  between  the  south  western  and  eastern 
cities.  And  it  was  evident,  from  a  view  of  the  whole  subject,  that  the 
business  could  not  only  be  profitably  pursued,  with  economical  arrange- 
ments, but  ihnt  the  public  domain,  upon  which  most  of  the  mines  are 
seate<l,  might  be  made  to  yield  a  revenue  to  the  treasury,  at  least  equal  to 
the  amount  of  this  article  required  for  the  national  consumption,  over  the 
expenses,  the  superintendence  and  manngeinent.  Besides  which,  there 
was  great  room  for  improved  and  economical  modes  of  mining;  and  there 
was  hardly  one  of  the  manipulations,  from  the  making  of  a  common  drill 
or  pick,  to  the  erection  of  a  smelting  furnace,  which  did  not  admit  of  salu- 
tary changes  for  the  better.  The  recovery  of  the  mere  waste  lead,  in  its 
sublimated  form,  around  the  open  log  furnaces  of  the  country,  promised  to 
add  a  valuable  item  to  the  profit  of  the  business.  The  most  wasteful,  hurried, 
and  slovenly  of  all  systems  is  pursued  in  exploring  and  raising  the  ore,  by 
which  the  surface  of  the  country  is  riddled  with  pit  holes,  in  the  most 
random  manner ;  the  loose  and  scattered  deposits  in  the  soil  hastily  gathered 
up,  and  the  real  lead  and  veins  of  metal  left,  in  very  many  cases,  untouched. 
Tbousatids  of  square  acres  of  land  were  thus  partially  rifled  of  their 
riches,  and  spoiled,  and  condemned,  without  being  exhausted.  By  having 
no  scientific  knowledge  of  mineral  veins  and  geological  structure,  as  prac- 
tically adopted  in  Europe,  all  rule  in  the  process  of  mining  and  raising 
the  ore  had  degenerated  into  mere  guess  work,  and  thousands  of  dollars 
had  been  wasted,  in  some  places,  where  the  application  of  some  of  the 
plainest  mining  principles,  would  not  have  warranted  the  removal  of  a 
shovel  full  of  earth.  In  short,  there  was  here  observed,  a  blending  of  the 
miner  and  fanner  character.  Almost  every  farmer  was  a  miner.  Plan- 
ters who  had  slaves,  employed  them  part  of  the  year  in  mining;  and 
every  miner,  to  some  extont  was  a  farmer.  Because  the  ore  found  in  the 
chy  beds  did  not  occur  in  east  and  west,  or  north  and  south  lines,  or  its 
rules  of  deposition  had  not  been  determined  by  careful  observation,  all 
success  in  the  exploration  was  supposed  to  bo  the  result  of  chance.  And 
whoever  surveys  the  mineral  counties  of  Missouri,  will  be  ready  to  con- 
clude, that  more  labour  has  been  thrown  away  in  the  helter-skelter  sys- 
tem of  digging,  than  was  ever  applied   to  well  directed  or  profitablo 


I 


->  'I 

i 


36 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES 


I- 


mining.  Had  an  absolute  monarch  called  for  this  vast  an.ount  of  labour 
from  his  people  to  build  some  monument,  he  would  have  been  declared 
the  greatest  tyrant.  Indeed,  I  know  of  no  instance  in  America,  of  the 
misapplication  of  so  great  an  amount  of  free  labour — labour  cheerfully 
bestowed,  and  thrown  away  without  a  regret.  For  the  losers  in  mining, 
like  the  adventurers  in  a  lottery,  have  no  one  to  blame  but  themselves. 

It  appeared  to  me  that  a  statement  of  the  actual  condition  of  the  mines, 
iVould  be  received  with  attention  at  Washington,  and  that  a  system  for  the 
better  management  of  them  could  not  but  be  approved,  were  it  properly 
brought  forward.  I  determined  to  make  the  attempt.  It  did  not,  how- 
ever, appear  to  me,  that  nature  had  limited  the  deposits  of  ore  to  one  spe- 
cies, or  to  so  limited  an  area,  and  I  sought  means  to  extend  my  personal 
examinations  farther  west  and  south.  To  bring  this  about,  and  to  collect 
the  necessary  information  to  base  statements  on,  in  a  manner  correspondent 
to  my  wishes,  required  time,  and  a  systematic  mode  of  recording  fiicts, 

To  this  object,  in  connexion  with  the  natural  history  of  the  country,  1 
devoted  the  remainder  of  the  year,  and  a  part  of  the  following  year.  I 
soon  found,  after  reaching  the  mines,  that  I  had  many  coadjutors  in  the 
business  of  collecting  specimens,  in  the  common  miners,  some  of  whom 
were  in  the  habit  of  laying  aside  for  me,  any  thing  they  found,  iii  their 
pits  and  leads,  which  assumed  a  new  or  curious  character.  Inquiries  and 
applications  relative  to  the  mineralogy  and  structure  of  the  country  were 
made,  verbally  and  by  letter,  from  many  quarters.  I  established  my  resi- 
dence at  Potosi,  but  made  excursions,  from  time  to  time,  in  various  direc- 
tions. Some  of  these  excursions  were  fruitful  of  incidents,  which  would 
be  worth  recording,  did  the  cursory  character  of  these  reminiscences  per- 
mit it.  On  one  occasion,  I  killed  a  horse  by  swimming  him  across  the 
Joachim  river,  at  its  mouth,  whilst  he  was  warm  and  foaming  fVom  a  hard 
day's  ride.  He  was  put  in  the  stable  and  attended,  but  died  the  next  day, 
as  was  supposed,  from  this  sudden  transition.  There  was  scarcely 
a  mine  or  digging  in  the  country,  for  forty  miles  around,  which  I  did  not 
personally  examine ;  and  few  persons,  who  had  given  attention  to  the 
subject,  from  whom  I  did  not  derive  some  species  of  information. 

The  general  hospitality  and  frankness  of  the  inhabitants  of  the  mine 
country  could  not  but  make  a  favourable  impression  on  a  stranger.  The 
custom  of  riding  on  horseback,  in  a  region  which  a  fiords  great  facilities 
for  it,  makes  every  one  a  horseman  and  a  woodsman,  and  has  generated 
something  of  the  cavalier  air  and  manners.  But  nothing  impressed  mo 
more,  in  this  connexion,  than  the  gallant  manner,  which  1  observed  here, 
of  putting  a  lady  on  horseback.  She  stands  facing  you,  with  the  bridle 
in  her  right  hand,  and  gives  you  her  left.  She  then  places  one  of  her  feet 
in  your  left  hand,  which  you  stoop  to  receive,  when,  by  a  simultaneous 
exertion  and  spring,  she  is  vaulted  backwards  into  the  saddle.     Whether 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 


37 


if 


tliis  be  a  transmitted  Spanish  custom,  I  know  not,  but  I  have  not  observed 
it  in  the  French,  or  American  settlements  west  of  the  Ailejhanies. 

The  earthquakes  of  1812,  which  were  so  disastrous  in  South  America, 
are  known  to  have  propagated  themselves  towards  the  north,  and  they  ex- 
erted some  striking  efl'ects  in  the  lower  part  of  the  valley  of  the  Missis- 
sippi, sending  down  into  the  clianncl  of  the  latter,  large  areas  of  deluvial 
earth,  as  was  instanced,  in  a  remarkable  manner,  at  New  IVIadrid.  Por- 
tions of  the  fort'st,  back  of  this  town,  sunk,  and  gave  place  to  lakes  and 
lagoons.  These  elTects  were  also  witne;fsed,  though  in  a  milder  form,  in 
the  more  solid  formniions  of  the  mine  country.  Soon  after  reaching 
Potosi,  I  visited  the  Mineral  Fork,  a  tributary  of  the  Merrimack,  where 
some  of  these  eflects  had  been  witnessed.  I  descended  into  the  pit  and 
crevices  of  the  OIJ  Mines.  These  mines  were  explored  in  the  metallifer- 
ous rock.  Every  thing  had  an  old  and  ruinous  look,  for  they  had  been 
abandoned.  Large  quantities  of  the  ore  had  been  formerly  raised  at  this 
mine,  which  was  pursued  into  a  deep  fissure  of  the  limestone  rock.  I  de- 
scended into  this  fissure,  and  found  among  the  rubbish  and  vein  stones, 
large  elongated  and  orbicular  masses  of  calc  spar,  the  outer  surfaces  of 
which  bore  strong  marks  of  geological  abrasion.  They  broke  into  rhombs 
very  transparent,  and  of  a  honey-yellow  colour.  Mr.  Elliot,  the  intelli- 
gent proprietor  of  this  mine,  represented  the  indications  of  ore  to  have  been 
flattering,  although  every  thing  was  now  at  a  stand.  Masses  of  sulphurel 
of  zinc,  in  the  form  of  blende,  were  noticed  at  this  locality.  Mr.  Elliot 
invited  me  to  dine,  and  he  filled  up  the  time  with  interesting  local  remin- 
iscences. He  stated,  among  other  facts,  that  a  copious  spring,  at  these 
mines,  dried  up  during  the  remarkable  earthquakes  of  1812.  These 
earthquakes  appear  to  have  discharged  their  shocks  in  the  direction  of  the 
stratification  from  the  southwest  to  tlie  northeast,  but  they  spent  their  force 
west  of  the  Mississippi.  Their  chief  violence  was  at  Natchitoches  and 
New  Madrid,  at  the  latter  of  which  they  destroyed  an  immense  area  of 
alluvial  land.  Their  effects  in  the  Ohio  valley,  lying  exactly  in  the  direc- 
tion of  their  action,  were  slight.  A  Mr.  Watkins,  of  Cincinnati,  accom- 
panied me  on  this  examination,  and  rode  back  with  me  to  Potosi. 

On  the  9th  of  August,  I  had  dined  with  Samuel  Perry,  Esq,  at  Mine 
a  Burton,  one  of  the  principnl  inhabitants  of  the  county,  and  was  passing 
the  evening  at  Mr.  Austin's,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Perry  came  suddenly  in. 
They  had  hardly  taken  seats,  when  a  rabble  of  persons  with  bells  and 
horns  surrounded  the  house,  and  kept  up  a  tumult  that  would  have  done 
honor  t(j  one  of  the  wildest  festivals  of  St.  Nicholas,  headed  by  Brom  Bonea 
himself.  This,  we  were  told,  was  a  Chiraviri.  And  what  is  a  Chiraviri? 
I  am  not  deep  enough  read  in  French  local  customs  to  give  a  satisfactory 
answer,  but  the  custom  is  said  to  be  one  that  the  populace  may  indulge  in, 
whenever  a  marriage  has  taken  place  in  the  village,  which  is  not  in  exact 
uccordarxc  with  their  opinions  of  its  propriety.     1  was,  by  this  incider'  in- 


88 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


formed  of  Mr.  Perry's  recent  marriage,  and  should  judge,  moieover,  that 
he  had  exercised  both  taste  and  judgment  in  his  selection  of  a  partner. 
The  affair  of  the  Chiraviri  is  said  to  have  been  got  up  by  some  spiteful 
persons. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  month  (12th,)  I  set  out,  accompanied  by  Mr. 
James  B.  Austin,  on  hort-eback,  for  Herculaneuni,  by  the  way  of  Hazel 
Run,  a  route  displaying  a  more  southerly  section  of  the  mine  country  ilian 
I  had  before  seen.  A  ride  on  horseback  over  the  mine  hills,  ollui.s  one 
of  the  most  delightful  prospects  of  picturesque  sylvan  beauty  that  can  be 
well  conceived  of.  The  hills  are,  with  a  few  exceptions,  not  precipitous 
enough  to  make  the  ride  irksome.  They  rise  in  long  and  gentle  swells, 
resembling  those  of  the  sea,  in  which  the  vessel  is,  by  an  easy  motion,  al- 
ternately at  the  top  of  liquid  hills,  or  in  the  bottom  of  liquid  vales.  From 
these  hills  the  prospect  extends  ever  a  surface  of  heath-grass  and  prairie 
flowers,  with  an  open  growth  of  oaks,  giving  the  whole  country  rather 
the  aspect  of  a  yark  than  a  wilderness.  Occasionally  a  ridge  of  pine 
intervenes,  and  wherever  there  is  a  brook,  the  waters  present  the  trans- 
parency ol  rock  crystal.  Sometimes  a  range  of  red  clay  hillocks,  put- 
ting up  rank  shrubs  and  vines  of  species  which  were  un/oww/i  before^ 
indicates  an  abandoned  digging  or  mine.  Farms  and  farm  houses  were 
then  few ;  and  every  traveller  we  met  on  hoisebacli,  had  more  or  less  the 
bearing  of  a  country  cavalier,  with  a  fine  horse,  good  equipments,  per- 
haps holsters  and  pistols,  sometimes  a  rifle,  and  always  something  of  a 
military  air,  betokening  manliness  and  independence.  Wherever  we 
stopped,  and  whoever  we  met  on  the  way,  there  was  evinced  a  courteous 
and  hospitable  disposition. 

We  did  not  leave  Potosi  till  afternoon.  It  was  a  hot  August  day,  and  it 
was  dusk  before  we  entered  the  deep  shady  valley  of  Big  River.  Some 
delay  arose  in  waiting  for  the  ferryman  to  put  us  across  the  river,  and  it 
was  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening  when  we  reached  Mr.  Bryant's,  at  Hazel 
Run,  where  we  were  cordially  received.  Our  host  would  not  let  us  leave 
his  house,  next  morning,  till  after  breakfast.  We  rode  to  McCorniick's, 
on  the  Platten,  to  dinner,  and  reached  Herculaneum  before  sunset.  The 
distance  by  this  route  from  Potosi  is  forty-five  miles,  and  the  road,  with 
the  exception  of  a  couple  of  miles,  presented  a  wholly  new  section  of  the 
country. 

The  Mississippi  was  now  low,  displaying  large  portions  of  its  margin, 
and  exhibiting  heavy  deposits  of  mud  and  slime,  which  broke  into  cakes, 
as  they  dried  in  the  sun.  I  know  not  whether  these  exhalations  affected 
me,  but  I  experienced  a  temporary  illness  for  a  few  days  during  this  visit. 
I  recollect  that  we  had,  during  this  time,  some  severe  and  drenching  rain 
Btorms,  with  vivid  and  copious  lightning,  and  heavy  pealing  thunder. 
These  drenching  and  rapid  showers  convert  the  brooks  and  rills  ol  tho 
mine  country  to  perfect  torrents,  and  this  explains  one  cause  of  tho  wash- 


I 

P' 


PERSONAL    REMINISCENCES. 


39 


ing  away  and  gullying  of  roads  and  streets,  so  remarkable  on  the  west 
bank  of  tiie  Mississippi.  My  illness  induced  me  to  give  up  returning  on 
horseback  ;  and  I  set  out,  on  the  18th  of  the  month,  in  a  dearborn,  acco.n- 
panied  by  Mrs.  Austin.  On  descending  the  long  hill,  near  Donnell's,  oe- 
yond  the  Joachim,  the  evening  was  so  dark  that  I  became  sensible  I  must 
have  got  out  of  the  road.  I  drove  with  the  more  care  a  few  moments, 
and  stopped.  Requesting  Mrs.  Austin  to  hold  the  reins,  I  jumped  out 
and  e.vplored  the  ground.  I  found  myself  in  an  abandoned,  badly  gullied 
track,  which  would  have  soon  capsized  the  wagon  ;  but  leading  the  liorse 
by  the  bridle,  I  slowly  regained  my  position  in  the  direct  road  and  got 
down  the  hill,  and  reached  the  house  without  further  accident.  Ne.xtday 
we  drove  into  Potosi  by  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  This  was  my 
second  visit,  and  1  now  accepted  a  room  and  quarters  for  my  collection, 
at  their  old  homestead  called  Durham  Hall. 

From  this  period  till  the  middle  of  September,  I  pursued  with  unre- 
mitting assiduity,  the  enquiry  in  hand,  and  by  that  time  had  made  a  cabi- 
net collection,  illustrating  fully  the  mineralogy,  and,  to  some  extent,  the  geo- 
logical structure  of  the  country.  I  erected  a  small  chemical  furnace  for 
assays.  Some  of  the  clays  of  the  country  were  found  to  stand  a  high 
heat,  and  by  tempering  them  with  pulverized  granite,  consisting  largely 
of  feldspar,  1  obtiiined  crucibles  that  answered  every  purpose.  Some  of 
the  specimens  ot  lead  treated  in  the  dry  way,  yielded  from  75  to  82  pei 
cent. 

Accident  threw  in  my  way,  on  the  25th  of  August,  a  fact  which  led  to 
me  discovery  of  a  primitive  tract,  on  the  southern  borders  of  the  mine 
country,  the  true  geological  relation  of  which  to  the  surrounding  second- 
ary formations,  formed  at  the  outset  rather  a  puzzle.  I  rode  out  on  horse- 
back on  that  day,  with  Mr.  Stephen  F.  Austin,  to  Miller's,  on  the  Mineral 
Fork,  to  observe  a  locality  of  manganese,  and  saw  lying,  near  his  mills, 
some  large  masses  of  red  syenitic  granite^,  which  appeared  to  have  been 
freshly  blasted.  He  remarked  that  they  were  obtained  on  the  St.  Francis, 
and  were  found  to  be  the  best  material  at  hand  for  millstones.  On  exami- 
nation, the  rock  consisted  almost  exclusively  of  red  feldspar  and  quartz. 
A  little  hornblende  was  present,  but  scarcely  a  trace  of  mica.  This 
species  of  syenitic  granite,  large  portions  of  which,  viewed  in  the  field, 
are  complete  syenite,  and  all  of  which  is  very  barren  of  crystals,  I  have 
smce  found  on  the  upper  Mississippi,  and  throughout  the  northwestern 
regions  above  the  secondary  latitudes.  The  hint,  however,  was  not  lost. 
I  took  the  first  opportunity  to  visit  the  sources  of  the  St.  Francis :  having 
obtained  letters  to  a  gentleman  in  that  vicinity,  I  set  out  on  horseback 
for  that  region,  taking  a  stout  pair  of  saddle-bags,  to  hold  my  collections, 
1  passed  through  Murphy's  and  Cook's  settlements,  which  are,  at  the 
present  time,  the  central  parts  of  St.  Francis  county.  Mine  a  la  Motte 
ttflbrded  some  new  facts  in  its  mineralogical  features.     I  first  saw  this  red 


40 


PERSONAL   REMINISCENCES. 


syenite,  in  place,  on  Blackford's  Fork.     The  westernmost  limits  of  this 
ancient  mine  extends  to  within  a  mile  or  two  of  this  primitive  formation. 
The  red  clay  formation  extends  to  the  granitic  elevations,  and  conceals 
their  junction  with  the  newer  rock.     The  neaiest  of  tlie  carboniferous 
series,  in  place,  i.s  on  the  banks  of  Rock  Creek,  at  some  miles'  distance. 
It  is  there  the  crystalline  sandstone.     How  far  this  primitive  district  of 
the  St.  Francis  extends,  has  not  been  determined.     Tiie  St.  Francis  and 
Grand  rivers,  both  have  their  sources  in  it.     It  is  probable  the  Ozaw  Fork 
of  the  Merrimack  comes  from  its  western  borders.     Not  less  than  twenty 
or  thirty  miles  can  be  assigned  for  its  north  and  south  limits.     The  Iron 
mountain  of  Bellvieu  is  within  it.     The  vicinity  of  the  pass  called  the 
Narrows,  appears  to  have  been  the  locality  of  former  volcanic  action.     A 
scene  of  ruder  disruption,  marked  by  the  vast  accumulation  of  broken 
rock,  it  would  be  diiTicult  to  find.     Indeed  the  whole  tract  is  one  of  high 
geological,  as  well  as  scenic  interest.     Had  the  observer  of  this  scene 
been  suddenly  dropped  down  into  one  of  the  wildest,  broken,  primitive 
tracts  of  New  England,  or  the  north  east  angle  of  New  York,  he  could 
not  have  found  a  field  of  higher  physical  attractions,     Trap  ard   green- 
stone constitute  j)romincnt  tracts,  and  exist  in  the  condition  of  dykes  in 
the  syenite,  or  feldspalhique  granite.     I  .sought  in   vain  for  mica  in  the 
form  of  distinct  plates.     Some  of  the  greenstone  is  handsomely  porpho- 
rytic,  and  embraces  green  crystals  of  feldspar.     Portions  of  this  rock  arc 
sprinkled  with  masses  of  bright  sulphuret  of  iron.     Indeed  iron  in  several 
of  its  forms  abounds.     By  far  the  largest  portion  of  it  is  in  the  shape  of 
the  micaceous  oxyde.     I  searched,  without  success,  for  the  irridescent 
specular  variety,  or  Elba  ore.     In  returning  from  this  trip,  I  found  Wolf 
river  greatly  swollen  by  rains,  and  had  to  swim  it  at  much  hazard,  with 
my  saddle-bags  heavily  laden  with  the  results  of  my  examination.     It  was 
dark  when  I  reached  the  opposite  bank  :  wet  and  tired   I  pushed  for  the 
only  house  in  sight.     As  I  came  to  it  the  doors  stood  open,  the  fences 
were  down,  a  perfect  air  of  desolation  reigned  around.     There  was  no 
living  being  found  ;  and  the  masses  of  yawning  darkness  exhibited  by 
the  untenanted  rooms,  seemed  a  fit  residence  for  the  genius  of  romance. 
Neither  my  horse  npr  myself  were,  however,  in  a  temper  or  pliglit  for  an 
adventure  of  this  kind,  and  the  poor  beast  seemed  ns  well  pleased  as   I 
was,  to  push  forward  from  so  cheerless  a  spot.     Four  miles'  riding  through 
an   untenanted   forest,  and  a   dark  and  blind  road,  brought  us  to  a  Mr. 
Murphy  s,  the  sponsor  of  Murphy's  settlement. 


i 


SCENES  AND  ADVEITURES 

IN    THE    OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 
A.  D.  1818  AND  1819. 

FROM    THE    OUGINAL    NOTKS    AM)   JOl  KNAL. 


PRELIMINARY  REMARKS. 

V^Ki'.Y  liule,  It  is  conceived,  is  nccosjary  to  enable  the  leiuler  to  Jetoimine 
tlio.  writer's  position  on  the  extreme  south  western  fVontieis,  in  the  year 
1K18.  He  had  spent  the  suuimei'  of  tluit  year  in  traversing  the  mine  dis- 
trict, which  extends  along  tlie  right  banii  of  the  Mississippi,  between  the 
mruth  ol'  the  Abiioiiieg  and  liie  diluvial  cliffs  south  of  Cape  Girardeau, 
extending  wi'St  and  south  westward  to  the  sourcfs  of  the.  St.  Francis.  In 
tlierie  niiiirraloi^ical  rauil)Ies,  which  were  pursued  sometimes  on  foot,  and 
sometimes  on  horsebaclc,  or  wheels,  he  made  ac(]uaintance  with  many 
estimable  men,  amongst  whom  he  may  name  the  Austins,  father  and  son, 
the  late  Col.  Ashley,  John  Kice  Jones,  Esf].,  and  many  others  who  are 
still  living,  by  all  wliom,  his  object  in  visiting  the  countiy  was  cordially 
approved  and  encouraged,  at  all  times.  He  also  became  acquainted  with 
practical  miners,  and  persons  of  enterprize  who  were  not  only  familiar 
with  the  settled  frontiers,  but  who  had  occasionally  penetrated  beyond 
then;,  into  the  broad  expanse  of  highlands,  now  geographically  known 
VrTTfirr  Uie  term  of,  the  Ozark  Chain.  Giologically  considered,  the  mine 
country  is  but  the  eastern  flanks  of  this  chain,  which  extends  flush  to  the 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  and  has  its  terminus  in  that  elevated  range  of 
mural  clilTs,  which  form  so  striking  atid  often  pictures(jne  a  display,  be- 
tween St.  Genevieve  and  St.  Louis.  There  was,  at  the  time,  a  general 
apprehension  felt  and  expressed,  by  hunters  and  others  who  had  pene- 
trated those  wikls  in  quest  of  deer  and  bufialo,  or  of  saltpetre-earth  in  the 
linieslonecavcs,  of  the  predatory  tribe  of  theOsages. — a  people  who  had  for 
years  cnjny(>l  the  bad  rejiutation  of  being  thieves  and  plunderers.  All 
concurred,  however,  in  tlie  interesting  character  of  the  country  extending 
in  a  general  course,  sonth-westwardly,  f.'om  the  jtmction  of  the  Missouri 
with  the  Mississipju.  lie  felt  an  ardent  desire  to  penetrate  this  terra 
incognit.a.  Fie  co'dd  not  leirn  th  it  any  exploiMtory  journey  had  been 
made  towards  thi'  Rocky  .^b)Ullt;iillS,  since  the  well  known  expeditions  of 
Lewis  and  Ckirlc,  up  the  Missouri,  and  of  I-init.  I'ike,  acro.ss  the  upper 
region  of  the  Arkansas,  to  Saute  Fe  and  Chihuahua.     Breckenridge  had 

41 


42 


ADVENTURES    IN    THE    OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 


subsequently  piiblislicj  an  account  of  a  trip  to  Council  Bluffs.*     But  ncl 
thcrof  ihcsu  routis  crosstd  tlie  wiih;  and  niounlariioiis  tiacts  rf.forrrdto,  or 
gave  any  definite  infbrinalion  respecting  them.     Viewed  on  tiie  map,  these 
routes  formed  the  general  exterior  outlines,  but  they  left  the  interior  filling 
up  to  be  supplied, — or,  if  supplied  at  all,  it  was  too  often  with  such  vaguo 

phrases  as  these — '•  Here  are  salt  mountains."     "  The is  supposed  to 

tak'e  its  rise  here."  "  Vulcanic  hills,"  and  so  forth.  The  geology  of  the 
country  furnished  no  indications  whatever  of  the  piobahility  of  t!ie  litter 
remark.  The  Kind  of  pseudo-pumice  found  floating  down  the  Missouri, 
in  high  water,  had  been  stated  by  Lewis  and  Clarke,  to  have  a  far  more 
remote,  and  local  origin.  The  description  of  roclc  salt,  in  mountain  mass, 
had  long  been  numbered  by  popular  belief,  among  the  finciful  creations 
of  an  exciting  political  era;  and  together  with  western  volcanoes,  had 
settled  down  among  those  antiquarian  rumours,  which  hold  up,  as  their 
prime  item,  the  e.visteucc  of  the  living  mammoth  "beyond  the  big  1  dves." 

If  the  writer  of  the  notes  and  journal  which  furnish  these  sketches, 
was  not  swayed  by  any  particular  theories  of  this  nature,  yet  was  ho  not 
free  from  the  e.vpectation  of  finding  abundant  materials,  in  the  natural  pro- 
ductions and  scenery  and  incidents  of  the  journey,  to  reward  him  amply  for 
its  perils.  He  had  received  from  hunters  several  objects  of  the  minerological 
and  geological  collection  which  he  made,  while  living  at  Potosi,  and  Mine  a 
Burton:  from  these  wild  borders,  and,  without  pretending  to  estimate  the 
force  of  each  particular  object  which  made  up  the  sum  of  his  motives,  he 
resolved  to  organize  an  expedition,  with  all  the  means  he  could  muster, 
and  explore  the  region.  The  Austins,  who  liad  treated  him  with  marked 
kindness  and  attention,  from  the  hour  of  his  ^rst  landing  in  Missouri, 
were  then  preparing  to  make  their  first  movement  into  Texas,  and  held 
out  to  him  a  fine  theatre  for  enterprise ;  but  it  was  one  not  suited  to  his 
particular  means  or  taste.  He  recoiled  from  the  subtlety  of  the  Spanish 
character;  and  is  free  to  confess,  that  he  deemed  it  a  fur  more  attractive 
latitude  for  the  zea  maize  and  the  cotton  plant,  than  for  those  pursuits 
which  led  him  to  prefer  the  more  rugged  eminences  of  the  Ozarks. 
They,  in  the  end,  founded  a  republic,  and  he  only  made  an  adventurous 
journey. 

Having  thus  recalled  the  era  and  the  motive  of  the  following  sketches, 
the  purport  of  these  remarks  is  accomplished. 

Jiew  York,  1844. 

•  Tlif  United  States  government,  the  very  next  year,  1819,  sent  out  Col.  Long  to 
the  Yellow  Stone. 


ADVENTUTIES    IN   THE    OZARK    MOUN'TAINS. 


43 


CHAPTER  I. 


u 


Tilings  lo  he  tlioiiglit  of  before  iiliinging  into  tiie  woods — Composiiion  of  tlip  party,  and 
reasons  why  it  was  not  more  nniiieroiis — First  iiifjlit's  encampiiient — Preliminaries 
— Sleep  in  u  (ieB'erfed  Indian  lodpe — A  fingiiiar  variety  of  the  Fox  Sepiirrel — The 
Pack  lliirse  escapes — Cross  tiie  elevation  called  the  Pinery — Reach  tlio  outskirts  of 
the  settlements  in  the  valley  of  tlie  Fourche  A'Courlois. 

Wiioi;vi;i;  would  venture  into  the  wilderness,  shonld  provide  liiinsclf 
with  such  articles  of  personal  comfort  or  safety,  as  habits,  forecast,  or  the 
particular  object  of  pursuit  or  observation,  require.  Every  one  will  think 
of  arms  and  ammunition,  but  there  are  other  things  required  to  make  life 
pleasant,  or  even  tolerable  in  the  woods.  This,  prior  exclusions  had 
already  taught  me,  but  the  lesson  was  repeated  by  those  of  greater  expe- 
rience. There  were  two  persons  who  had  agreed  to  go  with  me,  and 
stick  by  me,  to  the  end, — the  one  a  native  of  Massachiissetts,and  the  other, 
of  Connecticut,  both  like  myself,  new  in  the  field,  and  unacquainted  with 
life  in  the  woods.  What  they  lacked  in  this  art,  they  more  than  made  up, 
I  thought,  in  intelligence,  enterprise  and  resource.  The  name  of  the  first 
was  Biigham.  The  otiicr,  I  shall  allude  to,  under  the  name  of  Enobitti. 
Some  three  or  four  other  persons,  natives  of  the  region,  had  consented  to 
go  as  hunters,  or  adventurers  into  a  new  field  for  emigration,  but  it  so 
happened.  th;it  when  all  was  ready — when  every  objection  to  the  tour  had 
been  obviated,  and  every  want  supplied,  and  when  my  two  eastern  friends 
came  on  to  the  ground,  these  persons  all  quietly,  and  with  an  easy  flow  of 
reasons,  backed  out.  In  flict,  my  friend  Brigham,  was  also  obliged  to 
relinquish  the  journey,  after  he  had  reached  the  point  of  rendezvous,  i.  e. 
Potosi.  A  residence  on  the  American  bottom,  in  Illinois,  the  prior  sum- 
mer, had  exposed  him  to  the  malaria  of  that  otherwise  attractive  agricul- 
tural area,  and  an  intermittent  fever,  which  he  had  thus  contracted,  forbade 
his  venttiving  beyond  the  settlements.  So  that  when  the  appointed  day 
arrived,  Enobitti  and  myself  and  my  good  landlord,  Ficklin — a  warm 
hearted  Kentuckiiin,  who  had  been  a  hunter  and  border  spy  in  his  youth, 
were  all  the  persons  I  could  number,  and  the  latter,  only  went  a  short  dis- 
tance, out  of  the  goodness  of  his  heart,  and  love  of  forest  adventure,  to  set 
us,  as  it  were,  on  the  way,  and  initiate  us  into  some  necessary  forest  arts. 
It  was  a  bright  balmy  day, — the  6th  of  November,  1818.  The  leaves  were 
rapidly  ^tiling  from  the  trees,  and  strewed  the  road  and  made  a  musical 
rustling  among  the  branches,  as  we  passed  the  summits  of  the  mine  hills, 
which  separated  the  valley  of  Mine  a  Burton  from  the  next  adjoining 
stream.  The  air  had  just  enough  of  the  autumn  freshness  in  it,  lo  make 
it  inspiring ;  and  wc  v/alked  forward,  with  the  double  animation  of  health 


41 


ADVENTUIIKS    IN   TIIK   0/ARK    MOUNTAINS 


i 


and  lui[)i\  As  \vc  pnssoJ  tliroiioli  forests  wliere  tlic  liiduny  nboiindod, 
the  fox  and  jjivy  S(|nirrtd  wero  fiei  iifiitly  simmi  ]iir|iaiinjf  llioir  winter's 
stores,  and  jfiive  additional  anitnatioii  to  tlie  si'ene.  It  was  early  in  tlic 
.'iftfriiomi  wlieii  we  <-ani(.'  into  the  va.ley  of  lliti  f'  Creeii — it  was  indeed 
but  a  few  miles  from  our  staitinjr  |)(>int,  wliere  our  Kind  Mentor  told  lis,  it 
was  best  to  encamp ;  for,  in  the  first  place,  it  was  the  only  spot  where  we 
could  obtain  iralrr  for  a  long  distance,  nnd  secondly,  and  niore  important 
than  all.  it  was  necessary  that  we  shoiiM  re-arrange  the  load  of  our  pack- 
horse,  take  a  lesson  in  tiie  art  of  encampiny,  and  mala-  some  other  piepa- 
r.  ais  wiiicli  were  proper,  bef(  re  we  plunged  outright  into  the  wilderness 
'lliis  was  excellent  advice,  and  proper  not  only  to  novices,  but  even  to  the 
initiated  in  the  woodsman's  art.  It  is  always  an  object,  to  make,  by  this 
initiatory  movement,  what  is  technically  called  a  start. 

I  had  purchased  at  I'otosi,  a  horse — a  low  priced  animal,  rather  old  nnd 
bony,  to  carry  onr  blankets,  some  light  cooking  utensils  and  a  fi'W  other 
articles  of  necessity,  and  some  provisions.  He  bore  the  not  very  ajipro- 
priate  name  of"  Hutcher."  whether  from  a  former  owner,  or  how  acquired 
I  know  not,  but  he  was  not  of  a  sanguinary  temper,  or  at  least,  the  only 
fighting  propensity  he  ever  evinced  was  to  get  back  to  Potosi,  as  quick  as 
possible,  for  he  ran  oirthe  very  first  night,  and  freqiK.'ntly,  till  we  got  quite 
far  west,  repeated  the  attempt.  The  poor  beast  seemed  to  know,  instinc- 
tively, th;it  he  was  going  away  from  the  land  of  corn  fodder,  and  would 
liave  li,  sustain  himself  by  jiicking  up  his  m(>als  out  of  sere-grass,  often  in 
stony  places,  ,ii  in  some  dense  and  vine-bound  cane  bottom,  where  his  hinc' 
legs  would  often  be  bound  fist  by  the  green  briar,  whih;  he  reached  for 
ward  in  vain,  to  bite  otF  a  green  leaf 

Here  we  took  .the  first  lesson  in  duly  hobbling  a  horse — a  very  neces- 
sary lesson  :  for  if  not  /ii,li/i/i:i/,  he  will  stray  away,  and  cause  great  deten- 
tion in  the  morning,  and  if  not  well  hobbled  he  will  iiijre  his  legs.  We 
found,  near  the  banks  of  the  stream,  a  deserted  Indian  lodge,  which  ap- 
peared susceptible,  by  a  little  eflbrt,  of  affording  us  a  very  comfortable 
night's  lo  Iging,  and  would  furthermore,  should  it  rain,  prove  an  effectual 
shelter.  This  arrangement  we  immediately  set  about :  tiie  horse  was  un- 
packed, his  burden  sto\ 'ed  in  the  lodge,  the  horse  hobbled  and  belled,  nnd 
a  fire  lit.  While  my  companion  arranged  the  details  of  the  camp,  and 
prepared  to  boil  a  cup  of  tea,  I  look  my  gun.  and.  with  but  litili;  ado,  shot 
a  number  of  fine  fox  and  grey  squirrels — being  the  first  fruits  of  our  exertions 
in  the  chace.  Among  them,  there  was  one  of  decidedly  mongrel  species. 
If  not,  the  variety  was  peculiar.  He  had  a  grey  body,  and  a  icd  foxy 
tail,  with  the  belly,  nose,  and  tips  of  the  ears  black,  thus  uniting' .Iharac- 
terestics  of  three  varieties.  One  or  two  of  these  were  added  to  our  supper, 
which  we  made  with  great  satisfaction,  and  in  due  time  spread  out  our 
blankets,  and  slept  soundly  till  day  break. 

On  sallying  out,  I  found  the  horse  was  gone,  and  set  out  in  pursuit  of 


ADVRNTl'RES    IN    TlIK   0/,ARK    MOUNTAINS. 


45 


Jiim.  Alllioiiirli  lii.s  f,)i(.'  fcit  wi'K!  tithrri'd,  so  tliiit  he  inii.«t  lift  up  loth 
t(i!.M'tlni',  lii^  iiiinlc  lii.s  \v:iy  li;icl»,  in  lliis  jiiiii|iiiiL;  in.miirr,  to  liis  luiiiier 
owner's  door,  in  llii'  vilhigu  ot  Mine  a  I'lirlon.  lie  liinl  nm,  Iiowi'mt, 
lvf|il  till'  piitli.  iill  till!  way,  mul  losiny  liis  tnick  iiftir  hi;  i,'-nt  on  the  liciluigc, 
my  f''»r  cunyht  lli'"  sonnH  of  a  lii-ll  liir  lo  tlit>  Ici't,  which  I  look  to  he  his, 
and  rolldwcd.  [  piirsnr.'d  the  sound  of  this  lull,  which  wms  only  lieiird 
now  iini!  llicn.  till  after  i'rf)t:'^in;^  iiill  and  dalr,  without  deviation  from  the 
lino  of  .-(iiind,  I  came  out  at  a  farm  yard,  four  miles  helow  I'i.to>I ;  w  hero 
I  (ound  the  liell  to  he  attached  to  the  mick  of  a  stately  petimd  ox.  The 
ocnor,  (who  knew  me  and  the  circumstance  of  my  havinjf  S(  t  out  on  the 
expedition.)  told  me,  that  fiutcher  had  reached  the  mines,  and  heen  sent 
hack',  by  a  son  of  his  former  owner,  to  my  camp,  I  hail  ik'Iuii;^^  hl'i,  hul 
to  retrace  my  way  to  the  s:ime  spot,  where  I  found  the  fii[:iti\e.  and  sal 
down  t(j  a  hreukiiist  of  tea,  hread,  iiain  and  squirrel.  The  whole  mornin.g 
liad  heen  lost  by  this  misadventure.  It  was  ton  o'clock  before  we  got  the 
animal  j):icked  and  set  forward. 

Uur  Second  diiy's  journey  yiiddod  but  little  to  remark.      We  trnvclled 
diligently  along  a  rough  mcuntainous  path,  across  a  sterile  tract  called  the 


1' 


nierv. 


'I'l 


ns  tract  is   va 


luabl 


0  on 


ly  for 


Its  nmo  tnnber. 


Ill 


lus  neither 


firming  1.  lid  nor  mineral  wealth.     Not  a   habitation   of  any  kind   was 


pa 


ssod.     We  saw  neither  bird 


nor  animal. 


I.     The  sil 


0  silence  ol  desolation 


Beemed  to  accompany  us.  It  was  a  positive  relief  to  the  iinifoim  steiility 
of  the  soil,  and  monotony  of  the  prospect,  to  sec  at  length,  a  valley  before 
us.  It  was  a  branch  of  the  IMaromcg,  or  IVIerriroack,  which  is  called  by 
its  original  French  It  rm  of  Fouf.lic  u  Courlolx.  Wo  had  travelled  a  dis- 
t  nice  of  fourteen  miles  over  these  flinty  eminonces.  'I'lio  first  signs  of 
human  habitation  appeared  in  the  form  of  enclosed  fields.  Tl.e  sun  sunk 
below  the  bills,  as  we  entered  this  valley,  and  we  soon  had  the  glimpse  of 
a  dwelling.  Some  woodcock  flew  up  as  we  hastened  forward,  and  we 
were  not  long  in  waiting  for  our  formal  announcement  in  the  loud  and 
long  continued  barking  of  dogs.  It  required  the  stern  counnands  of  their 
niasier,  before  they  slunk  back  and  became  quiet.  It  was  a  smill  log 
tenement  of  the  usual  construction  on  the  frontiers,  and  afTonled  us  the 
usual  hospitality  and  ready  accommodation.  They  gave  us  warm  cakes 
of  corn  bread,  and  Hue  rich  niillc.  We  spread  our  blankets  before  an 
evening's  fire,  and  enjoyed  a  good  night's  rest.  Butcher  here,  I  think, 
had  liis  last  meal  of  corn,  and  made  no  attempt  to  return.  With  the 
earliest  streaks  of  day  light,  we  re-adjusted  his  pack,  and  igain  set 
forward. 


40 


ADVENTUUKS    IN   TIIK    O'/AnK    MOtfNTAINB. 


CHAPTER    II 


Ri'iirli  n  Iiiinlrr'H  cubiii  nii  tin-  (lulskirts  of  tin-  wild'Tiirsti — Hi-  ngrrcH  to  nccoiiiputiy 
UK — I'lilf  r  lln'  O/.iirk  IIIIIn — l^n'iiiiiilcr  iiii  cnciitiijiiiiciit  of  tin-  Dcliiwnro  Iiidiaiis— 
CliurnctiT  (if  the  r'oiiiilrv — ItN  ul|Mi>f  iiir,  iiiiil  tin-  pwliy  of  itH  waters. — AhcciuI  to 
tlic  Koiirc"'  of  till'  .'MiTriiitiicU — Ucacli  a  (jaiiii'  cimiitry — DcHcrtt'd  by  llio  liiinler  mid 
l^iiidc,  uiid  ul)uiidi)iiud  to  iiidividiiul  •■xiTtioiiii  in  tlii'He  artN, 

Evr.itv  joint  labour,  which  procrcds  on  the  theory,  that  rach  person  en- 
gajjed  in  it  is  to  remh  r  some  personal  service,  must,  in  order  that  it  may 
go  on  pleasantly  and  succeed  well,  have  a  definite  order,  or  rule  of  pro- 
gri'ss  ;  and  this  is  as  reipiisite  in  a  journey  in  the  wilderness  as  any  where 
else.  Our  rule  was  to  le:id  the  pack  horse,  and  to  take  tht;  comi)ass  and 
guide  ahead,  alternately,  day  liy  day.  It  was  tiiought,  I  had  the  best  art 
in  striking  and  making  a  fire,  and  when  we  halted  for  the  night,  always  did 
this,  while  my  conipaiiion  procured  water  and  put  it  in  a  way  to  hoil  for 
tea.  We  carried  ten,  as  beimnigliter  and  more  easy  to  make  than  codee. 
In  this  way  we  divi  led,  as  etpially  as  possible,  the  daily  routine  of  duties, 
and  went  on  pleasiiitly.  We  had  now  reached  the  last  settlement  on  the 
frontier,  and  after  a  couple  of  hours'  walk,  from  our  last  place  of  lodging, 
wc  readied  the  last  house,  on  the  outer  verge  of  the  wilderness.  It  was 
a  small,  newly  erected  log  hut,  occupied  by  a  hunter  of  the  name  of  Ro- 
berts, and  distant  about  '20  miles  from,  and  south-west  of  I'otosi.  Our  ap- 
proach here  was  also  heralded  by  dogs.  Had  we  been  wolves  or  pan- 
thcis,  creeping  upon  the  premises  at  midnight,  they  could  not  have 
performed  their  duty  more  noisily.  Truly  this  was  a  very  primitive 
dwelling,  and  as  recent  in  its  structure  as  it  was  primitive.  Large  fallen 
trees  lay  about,  just  as  the  a.xeman  had  felled  them,  and  partly  consumed 
by  fire.  The  effect  of  this  partial  burning  hud  been  only  to  render  these 
huge  trunks  black  and  hideous.  One  of  them  lay  in  front  of  the  cottage. 
In  other  places  were  to  be  seen  doer  skins  stretched  to  dry;  and 
deers'  feet  and  antlers  lay  here  and  there.  There  was  not  a  foot  of 
land  in  cultivation.  It  was  (juite  evident  at  first  sight,  that  we  had 
reached  the  dwelling  of  a  border  hunter,  and  not  a  tiller  of  the  ground. 
But  the  owner  was  absent,  as  we  learned  from  his  wife,  a  spare,  shrewd 
dark-skinned  little  woman,  drest  in  buckskin,  who  issued  from  the  dooi 
before  we  reached  it,  and  welcomed  us  by  the  term  of  '•  Strangers."  Al 
though  this  is  a  western  term,  which  supplies  the  place  of  the  word 
"friend,"  in  other  sections  of  the  union,  and  she  herself  seemed  to  bo 
thoroughly  a  native  of  these  latitudes,  no  Yankee  could  have  been 
more  inquisitive.  In  one  particular  department  of  enquiry,  namely  the  de- 
partment relative  to  the  chace.  She  inquired  our  object — the  course  and 
distance  we  proposed  tc  travel,  and  the  general  arrangements  of  horse- 


ADVENTUKF.S    IN    TUK    OZAHK    MuLNTAINB. 


€t 


have 
nitivc 

uiued 
these 

and 
ot  of 
had 
ound. 
rewd 
dooi 
Al 
word 
to  bo 
been 
ihc  do- 
se and 
horse- 


ppnr,  oqiiipiii^o,  «.Vi\  She  told  tK>  of  iho  d;iii;,Mr  of  eiicouutcritig  the 
()s;igc-!«,  timl  .scnitini/i'd  our  iirrii.s.  .'^iich  un  cxuiiiinatinii  would  indeed, 
for  its  th()roni;hni.'9M,  have  put  a  1,  1  to  hin  trutnps,  who  had  cunio 
prepared  for  his  (iist  (piarter's  exaininatioti  at  a  country  iicadeiny.  She 
told  u*',  ron  iiniore,  tli.it  her  hn>hand  would  he  hack  soon, — as  soon  inJeed 
.'IS  we  could  j»et  our  hrealifist,  and  that  he  would  he  glad  to  accompany 
us,  us  far  us  Ashley's  Cave,  or  perhaps  farther.  This  was  un  opportunity 
not  to  bo  slighted.  We  ngreed  to  wait,  and  [)rcp:ire  o\ir  niorning'a 
meal,  to  which  she  contiibiited  sonic  well  hiked  corn  cakes.  Uy  this 
time,  and  hefore  indeed  ue  had  been  long  there,  UoluMt.s  came  in.  It  is 
said  that  a  hunter's  life  is  a  life  of  feasting  or  ''••.',;„jr.  It  apjiearud  to  be 
one  of  the  latter  seasons,  with  him.  He  had  been  out  to  scour  the 
precincts,  for  a  nient  lireakfi^t,  but  came  liome  empty  handed.  lie  was 
desirous  to  go  out  in  the  direction  we  were  stei'ring,  wiiich  he  represented 
to  uhound  in  game,  lint  feared  to  venture  fir  alone,  on  account  of  the  ras- 
cally Osage.s.  lie  did  not  fear  the  Delawaiis,  who  were  near  by. 
Me  readily  accepted  our  oilier  to  accompany  us  as  hunter.  Robeits,  like 
his  forest  hehvmate,  was  clothed  in  deer  skin.  He  was  a  rather  chunky, 
stout,  middle  sized  man,  with  a  ruddy  face,  canning  features,  and  a 
bright  UM.'^tritdy  fyc.  Such  a  fellow'i  (Inal  deslinaliun  would  not  Le  a 
very  ecpiivocal  tnaUer,  wi're  he  a  resident  of  the  broad  neighbourhood  of 
Sing  Sing,  or  "sweet  Auburn;"  hut  here,  lie  was  a  man  that  might, 
perhaps,  be  trusted  on  an  occasion  like  this,  and  we,  at  any  rate,  were  glad  to 
have  his  services  on  the  terms  stipulated.  Even  while  we  were  talk- 
ing he  liegan  to  cle.in  his  rifle,  and  adju.st  his  leathern  accoutrements:  he 
then  put  si'veral  large  cakes  of  corn  bread  in  a  sack,  and  in  a  very 
short  time  he  brought  a  stout  little  horse  out  of  a  log  pen,  which 
served  for  a  barn  ;  and  clapping  an  old  saddle  on  his  back  and  niountiiig 
him,  witii  his  rifle'  in  one  lunvl,  said,  "  I  am  re.uly,"  and  led  olT.  Wo 
now  had  a  guide,  as  W(  II  as  a  hunter,  and  threw  this  burden  wdioUy 
on  him.  Onr  course  lay  up  a  long  ridge  of  hard  bound  clay  and  chert 
soil,  in  the  direction  of  the  sources  of  the  Maramcg,  or,  as  it  is  now  uni- 
ver.sally  call'-d  and  written,  Merrimack.  After  travelling  about  four 
miles  we  suddenly  descended  from  an  acclivity  into  a  grassy,  woodless 
valley,  with  a  brisk  clear  stream  winding  through  it,  and  several  lodges 
of  Indians  planted  on  its  borders.  Tiiis,  onr  guide  told  us,  was  the  Ozaw 
Fork  of  the  Merrimack-,  (in  modern  geographical  parlance  Ozark  )  And 
here  we  found  the  descendants  and  remainder  of  that  once  powerful 
tribe  of  whom  William  Pcnn  purchased  the  site  of  Philadeiphia,  and 
whoso  ancient  dominion  extended,  al  the  earliest  certain  historical  era, 
along  the  banks  the  Ivnuaiiiliiltuck,  or  Delaware  river.  Two  of  them 
were  at  home,  it  being  a  season  of  the  year,  and  time  of  day,  when  the 
men  are  out  hunting.  .Tiidging  fiom  peculiarity  of  features,  manners  and 
dress,  it   would   seem  to  be  impossible  that  any  people,  should  have  re- 


48 


AI)Vi:.\TlIlti;.S    IN    TUK    0/,AllK    i'MOUNTAINS. 


iTiiiiiivl  SO  \ong  ill  cotitTtU  wiih  or  jiixtupositioii  to  the  European  riicc.i 
nnil  cliangeJ  so  little,  in  .ill  that  constitiitos  national  anil  personal  iilrntitj'. 
Roberts  loolii'd  with  no  very  frictnlly  eye  upon  these  aiiei(;nt  lords  of  the 
forest,  the  whol,'.^  smii  of  his  philosoj)hy  an. I  philanti)ro]iy  beinir  measured 
by  the  very  tangible  circle  of  praiiie  ami  forests,  which  narrowed  his  own 
huntinii^  ^■•i-outuls.  They  were  even  then,  deemed  to  have  been  injudici- 
ously locatirl,  by  intelli<rent  persons  in  the  W(!St,  and  have  long  since  rc- 
movivl  to  a  pi'rnianent  location,  out  of  the  corporate  limits  of  the  States 
aU'l  Territories,  at  tin?  junction  of  the  river  Konga  with  the  Missouri.  1 
should  have  been  pleased  to  have  lengthened  our  short  halt,  but  the  word 
seeme-l  with  him  an  1  Enobitti  to  be  ''  onward,"  and  onward  we  pushed. 
We  were  now  fiirly  in  the  Ozark  chain — a  wide  and  almost  illimitable 
tract,  of  which  it  may  be  said,  that  the  vallies  only  arc  susceptible  of  fu- 
ture cultivation.  The  intervening  rilges  and  mountains  are  neaily  di'Sti 
tute  of  forest,  often  perfectly  so,  and  in  almost  all  cases,  sterile,  and  unlit 
for  the  plough.  It  is  proltable  sheep  might  be  raised  on  some  of  these 
eminences,  which  possess  a  sufiicifMicy  of  soil  to  permit  the  grasses  to  be 
sown.  GeoJogically,  it  has  a  basis  of  limestones,  resting  on  sandstones. 
Unfortunately  for  its  agricultural  character,  the  smlace  has  been  co- 
veroil  with  a  foreign  diluvium  of  red  clay  filled  with  chips  of  horstone,  chert 
and  broken  quart/,  which  rn  ik'o  the  soil  hard  and  compact.  Its  trees  are 
few  and  stunted  ;  its  grass  co  use.  In  looking  for  the  origin  of  such  a  soil, 
it  seems  probali'e  to  have  resulted  from  broken  down  slat'\sand  shistson  the 
tipper  Missouri  and  bidow  tin;  range  of  the  llocky  Moinitains,  in  which 
these  broken  and  imbedded  substances  originally  constituted  veins.  It  is 
only  in  the  vallies,  and  occasional  plains,  that  .a  richer  and  more  carbo- 
naceous soil  has  accumulateil.  The  purest  sprmgs,  however,  gush  out  of 
its  hills  ;  its  atmosphere;  is  fin*!  and  healthful,  and  it  constitutes  a  tlieatr* 
of  Alpine  attractions,  which  will  pro!i  ibly  ren  ler  it,  in  future  years,  thf 
resort  of  shepherds,  lovers  of  moimlain  scen(;ry,  and  valetiidinaiians 
There  is  another  remark  to  be  made  of  the  highland  tracts  of  the  Ozarb 
range.  They  look,  in  their  natural  state,  more  sterile  than  they  actuallj 
are,  from  the  elFects  of  autinnnal  fires,  'i'hese  fires,  continued  for  egesbj 
the  natives,  to  eleir  the  ground  for  huntiug,  bav(;  had  the  eireet  not  only 
to  curtail  and  destroy  large  veg(>tition,  but  all  the  carbonaceous  pailiclesol 
the  top  soil  have  been  burned,  leaving  the  surface  in  the  autumn,  rough, 
red,  dry  and  hard.  When  a  plough  comes  to  be  put  into  such  a  surface, 
it  throws  up  rpiite  a  ditll'rent  soil ;  and  the  ofiects  of  light,  and  the  son's 
heat  are  often  found,  as  I  have  noticed  in  other  parts  of  the  west,  to  pro- 
duce a  dark  and  comparatively  rich  soil. 

We  occupied  the  entire  day  in  ascending  and  crossing  the  ridge  of 
land,  which  divides  the  little  valley  of  the  Oza  from  that  of  the  Merritnack. 
When  getting  near  the  latter,  the  soil  exhibited  traces  of  what  appeared 
to  be  iroa  ore,  but  somewhat  peculiar  in  its  character,  and  of  dark  Ime; 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 


49 


!• 


This  soun  revealed  itself,  in  passing  a  short  distance,  in  an  abundant  lo- 
cality of  black  and  coloured  oxide  of  manganese — lying  in  masses  in  the 
arid  soil.  Tlie  Indian  trail  which  we  were  pursuing  led  across  the  val- 
ley We  forded  the  river  on  foot.  No  encampments  of  Indian;)  were 
found,  nor  any  very  recent  traces  of  chem  ;  and  we  began  to  think  that 
the  accounts  of  Osage  depredations  and  plundering,  must  be  rather  exag- 
gerated. The  river  pours  its  transparent  mountain  waters  over  a  wide 
bed  of  pebbles  and  small  boulders,  and,  at  ihis  season,  offered  but  little  im- 
podirnetit  to  the  horses  or  ourselves  in  crossing  it.  The  sun  was  getting 
low,  by  the  time  we  reached  the  opposite  side  of  the  valley,  and  we  en- 
camped on  its  borders,  a  mile  or  two  above.  Here  we  took  due  care  of 
our  horses,  prepnrcd  our  evening's  meal,  talked  over  the  day's  adven- 
tures, enjoyed  ourselves  silting  before  our  camp  fire,  with  the  wild  wide 
creation  before  us  and  around,  and  then  sank  to  a  sound  repose  on  our 
palK-ts. 

Novices  in  the  woodman's  art,  and  raw  in  the  business  of  travelling, 
our  sleep  was  sounder  and  more  death-like,  than  that  of  Roberts.  His 
eye  had  shown  a  restlessness  during  the  afternoon  and  evening.  We 
were  now  in  a  game  country,  the  deer  and  elk  began  to  be  frequently 
seen,  and  their  fresh  tracks  across  our  path,  denoted  their  abundance. 
During  'lie  night  they  ventured  about  our  camp,  so  as  to  disturb  the  ears 
of  the  weary  hunter,  and  indeed,  my  own.  He  got  up  and  found  both 
horses  missing.  Butcher's  memory  of  Mine  &  Burton  corn  fodder  had 
not  deseiled  him,  and  he  took  the  hunter's  horse  along  with  him.  1  jumped 
up,  and  accompanied  him,  in  their  pursuit.  They  were  both  overtaken 
about  three  miles  back  on  the  track,  making  all  possible  speed  homeward, 
that  their  tethered  fore  legs  would  permit.  We  conducted  them  back, 
without  disturbing  my  companion,  and  he  then  went  out  with  his  rifle, 
and  quickly  brought  in  a  fine  fat  doe,  for  our  breakfast.  Each  one  cut 
fine  pieces  of  steaks,  and  roasted  for  himself!  We  ate  it  with  a  little  salt, 
and  the  remainder  of  the  hunter's  corn  cakes,  and  finished  the  repas',  with 
a  pint  cup  each,  of  Enobitti's  best  tea.  This  turned  out  to  be  a  finale 
meal  with  our  Fourche  a  Courtois  man,  Roberts:  for  the  rascui,  a  few 
hours  afterwards,  deserted  us,  and  went  back.  Had  he  given  any  intima- 
tion of  dissatisfaction,  or  a  dt'*irc  lu  returti;  we  sliould  have  been  in  a 
measure  prepared  for  it.  It  is  probable  his  fears  of  the  then  prevalent  bug- 
bear of  those  frontiersmen,  the  Usages,  were  greater  than  our  own.  It  is 
also  probable,  tliiit  he  had  no  other  iJea  whatever,  in  leavingthe  Fourche  £l 
Coiiilois,  than  to  avail  himself  of  our  protection  till  he  could  get  into  a 
region  where  he  could  shoot  deer  enough  in  a  single  morning  to  load 
down  his  horse,  with  the  choicest  pieces,  and  lead  him  home.  This  the 
event,  at  least,  rendered  probable;  and  the  fellow  not  only  deserted  us 
meanly,  but  he  carried  ofl^  my  best  new  hunting  knife,  with  scabbard  and 
belt — a  loss  not  easily  repaired  in  such  a  place. 


a 


>  I 


60 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   OZARK   MOUNTAINS. 


To  cloak  his  plan,  he  set  out  with  us  in  the  morning:  it  had  rained  a  little,, 
during  the  latter  part  of  the  night,  and  was  lowering  and  dark  all  the 
morning.  After  travelling  about  ten  miles,  we  left  the  Osage  trail,  which 
began  to  bear  too  lar  north-west,  and  struck  through  the  woods  in  a  south 
course,  with  the  view  of  reaching  Ashley's  Cave  on  one  of  the  head 
streams  of  the  river  currents.  Soon  after  leaving  this  trail,  Roberts,  who 
was  in  advance  on  our  left,  about  half  a  mile,  fired  at,  and  killed,  a  deer, 
and  immediately  re-loaded,  pursued  and  fired  again  ;  telling  us  to  continue 
on  our  course,  as  he,  being  on  horseback,  could  easily  overtake  us.  We 
neither  heard  nor  saw  more  of  him.  Night  overtook  us  near  the  banks  of 
a  small  lake,  or  rather  a  series  of  little  lakes  or  ponds,  communicating 
with  each  other,  where  we  encamped.  After  despatching  our  supper,  and 
adjusting,  in  talk,  the  day's  rather  eventful  incidents,  and  the  morrow's  plan 
of  march,  we  committed  ourselves  to  rest,  but  had  not  sunk  into  forgetful- 
ness,  when  a  pack  of  wolves  set  up  their  howl  in  our  vicinity.  We  had 
been  told  that  these  animals  will  not  approach  near  a  fire,  and  are  not  l^i 
be  dreaded  in  a  country  where  deer  abound.  They  follow  the  track  of 
the  hunter,  to  share  such  part  of  the  carcass  as  he  leaves,  and  it  is  their 
nature  to  herd  together  and  run  down  this  animal  as  their  natural  prey.  We 
slept  well,  but  it  is  worthy  of  notice,  that  on  awaking  about  day  break,  the 
howling  of  the  wolves  was  still  heard,  and  at  about  the  same  distance. 
They  had  probably  serenaded  us  all  night.  Our  fire  was  nearly  out; 
wo  felt  some  chilliness,  and  determined  to  rekindle  it,  and  prepare  our 
breakfast  before  setting  forward.  It  was  now  certain,  that  Roberts  waa 
gone.  Luckily  he  had  not  carried  oflf  our  compass,  for  that  would  have 
been  an  accident  fatal  to  the  enterprise. 


CHAPTER   III. 

A  deeper  view  of  the  Ozark  Cliain.  Pass  along  the  flanks  of  the  highlands  which 
send  out  the  sources  of  the  Black,  Eleven  points,  Currents  and  Spring  rivers.  Reach 
a  romantic  glen  of  caves.  Birds  and  animals  seen.  Saltpetre  earth  ;  stalactites 
Cross  the  alpine  summit  of  the  western  Ozarks.  Source  of  the  Gasconde  river 
Accident  in  fording  the  Little  Osage  river. — Encamp  on  one  of  its  tributaries. 

■  I'-as  found,  as  we  began  to  bestir  ourselves  for  wood  to  light  our  fire 
T.1,  •  \ve  had  reposed  not  far  from  a  bevy  of  wild  ducks,  who  had  sought 
the  grassy  edge  of  the  lake  during  the  night,  and  with  the  first  alarm  be- 
took themselves  to  flight.  With  not  so  ready  a  mode  of  locomotion,  we 
followed  their  example,  in  due  time,  and  also  their  course,  which  was 
south.  At  the  distance  of  a  couple  of  miles,  we  crossed  a  small  stream, 
running  south-east,  which  we  judged  to  be  the  outlet  of  the  small  lakes 
referred  to,  and  which  is,  probably  the  source  of  Black  River,  or  the 
Eleven  points.  Our  course  ltd  us  in  an  opposite  direction,  and  we  soon 
foimd  ourselves  approaching  the  sterile  hills  which  bound  the  romantic 
valley  of  the  currents.  There  had  been  some  traces  of  wheels,  on  the 
softer  soil,  which  had  been  driven  in  this  direction  towards  the  saltpetre 
caves,  but  we  completely  lost  them,  as  we  came  to  and  ascended  these  arid 
and  rugged  steeps.  Some  of  these  steeps  rose  into  dizzy  and  romantic 
clilFs,  surmounted  with  pines.  We  wound  our  way  cautiously  amongst 
tiiem,  to  find  some  gorge  and  depression,  through  which  we  might  enter  the 
valley.  For  ouiselvos  we  should  not  have  been  so  choice  of  a  path,  but 
we  had  a  pack  horse  to  lead,  and  should  he  be  precipitated  into  a  gulf,  we 
must  bid  adieu  to  our  cnmp  equipage.  Our  arms  and  a  single  blanket, 
would  be  all  we  could  carry.  At  length  this  summit  was  reached.  The 
view  was  enchanting.  A  winding  wooded  valley,  with  its  clear  bright 
river,  stretched  along  at  the  base  of  the  summit.  Rich  masses  of  foliage, 
hung  over  the  clear  stream,  and  were  reflected  in.  its  pellucid  current,  with  a 
doubli!  beauty.  Tlie  autumnal  frost,  which  had  rifled  the  highland  trees 
of  their  clothing,  appeared  to  have  passed  over  this  deeply  secluded  valley 


?! 

1 

1 

1 

i 

1 

4' 

^'f|:' 


52 


ADVENTURES  IN  THE    OZARK  MOUNTAINS. 


with  but  little  effect,  and  this  effect,  was  only  to  highten  the  interest  of  the 
scene,  by  imparting  to  portions  of  its  foliage,  the  liveliest  orange  and  crim- 
son tints.  And  this  was  rendered  doubly  attractive  by  the  contrast.  Be- 
hind us  lay  the  bleak  and  barren  hills,  over  which  we  had  struggled, 
without  a  shade,  or  a  brook,  or  even  the  simplest  representative  of  the  ani- 
mal creation.  For  it  is  a  truth,  that  during  the  heat  of  the  day,  both  buds 
and  quadrupeds  betake  themselves  to  the  secluded  sh..-.es  of  the  streams 
and  vallics.  From  these  they  sally  out,  into  the  plains,  in  quest  of  food 
at  early  dawn,  and  again  just  before  night  fall.  All  the  rest  of  the  day, 
the  plains  and  highlands  have  assumed  the  silence  of  desolation.  Even- 
ing began  to  approach  as  we  cautiously  picked  our  way  down  the  cliffs, 
and  the  first  thing  we  did,  on  reaching  the  stream  was  to  take  a  hearty 
drink  of  its  crystal  treasure,  and  let  our  horse  do  the  same.  The  next  ob- 
ject was  to  seek  a  fording  place — which  was  effected  without  difficulty. 
On  mounting  the  southern  bank,  we  again  found  the  trail,  lost  in  ttie 
morning,  and  pursued  it  with  alacrity.  It  was  my  turn  this  day  to  be  in 
advance,  as  guide,  but  the  temptation  of  small  game,  as  we  went  up  th« 
valley,  drew  me  aside,  while  Enobitti  proceeded  to  select  a  suitable  spot 
for  the  night's  encampment.  It  was  dark  when  I  rejoined  him,  with  my 
squirrel  and  pigeon  hunt.  He  had  confined  himself  closely  to  the 
trail.  It  soon  led  him  out  of  the  valley,  up  a  long  brushy  ridge,  and  then 
through  an  open  elevated  pine  grove,  which  terminated  abruptly  in  a  per- 
pendicular precipice.  Separated  from  this,  at  some  eight  hundred  yards 
distance,  stood  a  counter  precipice  of  limestone  rock,  fretted  out,  into  pin- 
nacles and  massy  walls,  with  dark  openings,  which  gave  the  whole  the 
resemblance  of  architectural  ruins.  The  stream  that  ran  between  these 
cliffs,  was  small,  and  it  lay  so  deep  and  well  embrowned  in  the  shades  of 
evening,  that  it  presented  vividly  from  this  elevation,  a  waving  bright  line 
on  a  dark  surface.  Into  this  deep  dark  terrific  glen  the  path  led,  and  here 
we  lit  our  fire,  hastily  constructed  a  bush  camp,  and  betook  ourselves, 
after  due  ablutions  in  the  little  stream,  to  a  night's  repose.  The  sky  be- 
came rapidly  overcast,  before  we  had  finished  our  meal,  and  a  night  of 
intense  darkness,  threatenmg  a  tempest,  set  in.  As  we  sat  by  our  fire,  its 
glare  upon  huge  beetling  points  of  overhanging  rocks,  gave  the  scene  a 
wild  and  picturesque  cast:  and  we  anticipated  returning  daylight  with  an 
anxious  wish  to  know  and  see  our  exact  locality.  By  the  restless  tramp- 
ing of  our  horse,  and  the  tinkling  of  his  bell,  we  knew  that  he  had  found 
but  indifl'erent  picking. 

Daylight  fulfilled  the  predictions  of  the  evening.  We  had  rain.  It 
also  revealed  our  position  in  this  narrow,  and  romantic  glen.  A  high  wall 
of  rocks,  encompassed  us  on  either  hand,  but  they  were  not  such  as  would 
have  r'^sulted  in  a  volcanic  country  from  a  valley  fissure.  Narrow  and 
deep  as  the  glen  was,  it  was  at  once  apparent,  that  it  was  a  valley  of  de- 
nudation, and  had  owed  its  existence  to  the  wasting  effects  of  the  trifling 


; 


ADVENTURES  IN  THE    OZARK   MOUNTAINS. 


53 


Stream  within  it.  carrying  away,  particle  by  particle,  the  matter  loosened 
by  rains  and  frosls,  anJ  mechanical  attrition.  The  cliffs  are  exclusively 
calcareous,  and  piled  up,  mason  like,  in  horizontal  layers.  One  of  the 
most  striking  pictures  which  they  presented,  was  found  in  the  great  num- 
ber, size  and  variety  of  caves,  which  opened  into  this  calcareous  formation. 
These  caves  are  of  all  sizes,  some  of  them  very  large,  and  not  a  few  of 
them  situated  at  elevations  above  the  floor  of  the  glen,  which  forbade  ac- 
cess. 

One  of  our  first  objects,  after  examining  the  neighbourhood,  was  to  re- 
move our  baggage  and  location  up  the  glen,  into  one  of  these  caves, 
which  at  the  distance  of  about  a  mile,  promised  us  an  effectual  shelter  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  storm.  This  done,  we  determined  here  to  wait  for 
settled  weather,  and  expJore  the  precincts.  By  far  the  most  prominent 
object,  among  the  caverns,  was  the  one  into  which  we  had  thus  uncere- 
moniously thrust  ourselves  It  had  evidently  been  visited  before,  by  per 
sons  in  search  of  saltpetre  earth.  Efflorescences  of  nitric  earth,  were 
abundant  in  its  fissures,  and  this  salt  was  also  present  in  masses  of  reddish 
diluvial  earth,  which  lay  in  several  places.  The  mouth  of  this  cave  pre- 
sented a  rude  irregular  arc,  of  which  the  extreme  height  was  probably 
thirty  feet,  and  the  base  line  ninety.  The  floor  of  this  orifice  occurs,  at 
an  elevation  of  about  forty  feet  above  the  stream.  And  this  size  is  held  for 
about  two  hundred  feet,  when  it  expands  into  a  lofty  dome,  some  eighty  or 
ninety  feet  high,  and  perhaps,  three  hundred  in  diameter.  In  its  centre  a 
fine  spring  of  water  issues  from  the  rock.  From  this  dome  several  pas- 
sages lead  off  in  different  directions. 

One  of  these  opens  into  the  glen,  at  an  inaccessible  point,  just  below. 
Another  runs  back  nearly  at  right  angles  with  the  mouth,  putting  out 
smaller  passages,  of  not  much  importance,  however,  in  its  progress.  So 
S'plendid  and  noble  an  entrance  gave  us  the  highest  hopes  of  finding  it  but 
the  vestibule  of  a  natural  labyrinth  ;  but  the  result  disappointed  us.  These 
ample  dimensions  soon  contract,  and  after  following  the  main  or  south 
passage  about  five  hundred  yards,  we  found  our  further  entrance  barred, 
by  ma.sscs  of  fallen  rock,  at  the  foot  of  which  a  small  stream  trickled 
through  the  broken  fragments,  and  found  its  way  to  the  mouth.  Have  we 
good  reason  to  attribute  to  this  small  stream,  a  power  sufficient  to  be  re- 
garded as  the  effective  agent  in  carrying  away  the  calcareous  rock,  so  as 
to  have  in  a  long  period  produced  the  orifice?  Whence  then,  it  may  be 
asked,  the  masses  of  compact  reddish  clay  and  pebble  diluvium,  which 
exist?  These  sei-m  rather  to  denote  that  these  caves  were  open  orifices, 
during  the  p'^riod  of  oceanic  action,  upon  the  surface  of  the  Ozarks,  and 
that  a  mass  of  waters,  surcharged  with  such  materials,  flowed  into  pre- 
existing caverns.  This  diluvium  is,  in  truth,  of  the  same  era  as  the  wide 
spread  stream  of  like  kind,  which  has  been  deposited  over  the  metalliferous 
region  of  Missouri.     If  these,  however,  be  questions  for  geological  doubt, 


m 


54 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE    OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 


we  had  lit  upon  another  inquiry,  very  prominent  on  our  minds  in 
making  this  exploration,  namely,  whetlier  there  weic  any  wild  beasts 
sheltered  in  its  fissures.  Satisfied  that  we  were  safe  on  this  score,  we  re 
traced  ou'  footsteps  to  our  fire,  and  sallied  out  to  visit  other  caves.  Most 
of  the  e  .vera  at  such  heights  as  prevented  access  to  them.  In  one  in- 
stance, a  tree  had  fallen  against  the  face  of  the  cViif,  in  such  a  manner 
that  by  climbing  it  to  its  forks,  and  taking  one  of  the  latter,  llie  openuig 
might  be  reached.  Putting  a  small  mineral  hammer  in  my  pocket,  I  as 
ccnded  this  tree,  and  found  the  cave  accessible.  It  yielded  some  wax 
yellow  and  white  translucent  stalactites,  and  also  very  delicate  white  crys 
tals  of  nitre.  The  dimensions  of  this  cave  were  small,  and  but  little 
higher  than  to  enable  a  man  to  stand  upright. 

In  each  of  the  caves  of  this  glen  which  I  entered,  during  a  halt  of 
several  days  in  this  vicinity,  I  looked  closely  about  for  fossil  bones,  but 
without  success  in  any  instance.  The  only  article  of  this  kind  observed 
was  the  recent  leg  and  foot  bones  and  vertebra  of  the  bos  musarius, 
which  appeared  to  be  an  inhabitant  of  the  uppermost  fissures  in  these  cal- 
careous clifls,  but  I  never  saw  the  living  species,  although  I  ranged  along 
their  summits  and  bases,  with  my  gun  and  hammer,  at  various  hours. 
Some  of  the  compact  lime  stone  in  the  bed  of  the  creek  exhibited  a  striped 
and  jaspery  texture.  The  wood-duck  and  the  duck  and  mallard  some- 
times frequented  this  secluded  stream,  and  it  was  a  common  resort  for  the 
wild  turkey,  at  a  certain  hour  in  the  evening.  This  bird  seemed  at  such 
times  to  come  in  thirsty,  from  its  ranges  in  quest  of  acorns  on  the  up- 
lands, and  its  sole  object  appeared  to  be  to  drink.  Sitting  in  the  mouth 
of  our  cave,  we  often  had  a  fine  opportunity  to  sec  flocks  of  these  noisy 
and  fine  birds  flying  down  from  the  clifl's,  and  perching  on  the  trees  below 
us.  If  they  came  to  roost,  as  well  as  to  slack  their  thirst,  a  supposition 
probable,  this  was  an  ill-timed  movement,  so  long  as  we  inhabited  the  glen, 
for  they  only  escaped  the  claw  and  talons  of  one  enemy,  to  fall  before  the 
fire-lock  of  the  other.  This  bird,  indeed,  proved  our  best  resource  on  the 
journey,  for  we  travelled  with  too  much  noise  and  want  of  precaution 
generally,  to  kill  the  deer  and  elk,  which,  however,  were  abundant  on  the 
highland  plains. 

We  passed  three  days  at  the  Glen  Cave,  during  which  there  were  se- 
veral rains;  it  stormed  one  entire  day,  and  we  employed  the  time  of  this 
confinement,  in  preparing  for  the  more  intricate  and  unknown  parts  of 
our  journey.  Hitherto  we  had  pursued  for  the  most  of  the  way,  a  trail, 
and  were  cheered  on  our  way,  by  sometimes  observing  traces  of  human 
labour.  But,  from  this  point  we  were  to  plunge  into  a  perfect  wilderness, 
without  a  trace  or  track.  We  had  before  lis,  that  portion  of  the  Ozark 
range,  which  separates  to  the  right  and  left,  the  waters  of  the  Missouri 
from  those  of  the  Mississippi.  It  was  supposed,  from  the  best  reports,  that 
by  holding  south-west,  across  these  eminences,  we  should  strike  the  valley 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 


55 


oi  the  White  River,  which  interposed  itself  between  our  position  there 
and  the  Arkansas.  To  enter  upon  this  tract,  with  our  compass  only  as  a 
guide,  and  with  the  certainty  of  finding  no  nutritious  grass  for  our  horse, 
required  that  we  should  lighten  and  curtail  our  baggage  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, and  put  all  our  effects  into  the  most  compact  and  portable  form. 
And  having  done  this,  and  »1  "  weather  proving  settled,  we  followed  a 
short  distance  up  fh-  llei.  waves  ;  but  finding  it  *"  l*"'d  too  directly 
west,  we  soon  left  it  ai.„  mount .  .he  hills  which  line  it^  ^^niern  border. 
A  number  of  latter  valleys,  covered  with  thick  brush,  made  this  a  labour 
by  no  means  slight.  The  surface  was  rough;  vegetal  .on  sere  and  dry, 
and  every  thicket  which  spread  before  us,  presented  an  obstacle  which  was 
to  be  overcome.  We  could  have  penetrated  many  of  these,  which  the 
horse  could  not  be  forced  through.  Such  parts  of  our  clothing  as  did  not 
consist  of  buckskin,  paid  frequent  tribute  to  these  brambles.  At  length 
we  got  clear  of  these  spurs,  and  entered  on  a  high  waving  table  land  where 
travelling  became  comparatively  easy.  The  first  view  of  this  vista  of 
nigh  land  plains  was  magnificent.  It  was  covered  with  moderate  sized 
sere  grass  and  dry  seed  pods,  which  rustled  as  we  passed.  There  was 
scarcely  an  object  deserving  the  name  of  a  tree,  except,  now  and  then,  a 
solitary  trunk  of  a  dead  pine,  or  oak,  which  had  been  scathed  by  light- 
ning. The  bleached  skull  of  the  buffalo,  was  sometimes  met,  and  proved 
that  this  animal  had  once  existed  here.  Rarely  we  passed  a  stunted  oak ; 
sometimes  a  cluster  of  saplings  crowned  the  summit  of  a  sloping  hill ;  the 
deer  often  bounded  before  us;  we  sometimes  disturbed  the  hare  from  its 
eheltering  bush,  or  put  to  flight  the  quail  or  the  prairie  hen.  There  was 
no  prominent  feature  for  the  eye  to  rest  upon.  The  unvaried  prospect 
produced  satiety.  We  felt  in  a  peculiar  manner  the  solitariness  of  the 
wilderness.  We  travelled  silently  and  diligently.  It  was  a  dry  and  thirsty 
barren.  From  morning  till  sun  set  we  did  not  encounter  a  drop  of  water. 
This  became  the  absorbing  object.  Hill  after  hill,  and  vale  after  vale 
were  patiently  scanned,  and  diligently  footed,  without  bringing  the  ex- 
pected boon.  At  length  we  came,  without  the  expectation  of  it,  to  a  small 
running  stream  in  the  plain,  where  we  gladly  encamped.  There  was 
also  some  grass  which  preserved  a  greenish  hue,  and  which  enabled  our 
horse  also  to  recruit  himself. 

Early  iho  next  morning  we  repacked  him,  and  continued  our  course, 
travelling  due  west  south-west.  At  the  distance  of  five  or  six  miles,  we 
reached  the  banks  of  a  clear  stream  of  twenty  feet  wide,  running  over  a 
bed  of  pebbles  and  small  secondary  boulders.  This  stream  ran  towards 
the  north  west,  and  gave  us  the  first  intimation  we  had,  that  we  had 
crossed  the  summit  and  were  on  the  off*  drain  of  the  Missouri.  We  sup- 
posed it  to  be  the  source  of  the  Gasconade,  or  at  farthest  some  eastern  tri- 
butary of  the  Little  Osage. 

A  few  hours  travelling  brought  us  to  the  banks  of  another  stream  of 


:i 


i 


66 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   OZARK   MOUNTAINS. 


much  larger  size  and  depth,  but  running  in  the  same  direction.  This 
stream  we  found  it  difficult  to  cross,  and  spent  several  hours  in  heaping 
piles  of  stone,  and  connecting  them  with  dry  ....ibs  of  trees,  which  had 
been  carried  down  by  floods.  It  had  a  rapid  and  deep  current,  on  each 
side  of  which  was  a  wide  space  of  shallow  water  and  rolled  boulders  of 
lime  and  sand  stone.  Wo  succeeded  in  driving  the  horse  safely  over. 
Enobitti  led  the  way  on  our  frail  bridge-work,  but  disturbed  the  last  link 
of  it  as  he  jumped  off  on  the  south  bank,  so  that  it  turned  under  my  tread 
and  let  me  in.  There  was  no  kind  of  danger  in  the  fall  as  it  was  in  the 
shallow  part  of  the  stream,  but  putting  out  my  hands  to  break  the  full,  it  so 
happened  that  my  whole  weight  rested  on  my  gun,  which  was  supported 
on  two  stones,  merely  on  its  butt  and  muzzle ;  the  effect  was  to  wrench  the 
bairel.  I  gave  it  a  counter  wrench  as  soon  as  we  encamped,  but  I  never 
afterwards  could  place  full  confidence  in  it.  We  hnd  not  gone  over  three 
or  four  miles  beyond  this  river,  when  we  came  to  the  banks  of  a  third 
stream,  running  west,  but  also  sweeping  off  below,  towards  the  north- 
west. This  stream  was  smaller  than  the  former  and  opposed  no  dif- 
ficulty in  fording  it.  Having  done  this  we  followed  it  up  a  short  distance., 
and  encamped  on  its  south  banKa. 


lis 

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nk 
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so 
led 
the 
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ird 
rth- 
dif- 
ice, 


I 


CHAPTER   IV. 

Hearsay  information  of  tlie  hunters  turns  out  false — We  niter  our  course — A  bear 
hunt — An  accidont — Another  rencontre  with  bears — Strike  the  source  of  the  Great 
North  Fork  of  Wiiite  River — Journey  down  tliis  valley — lis  character  and  productions 
— A  great  S])ring — Incidents  of  the  route — Puck  horse  rolls  down  n  precipice — Plunges 
in  the  river — A  cavern — Osage  lodges — A  hunter's  hut. 

It  was  now  manifest,  from  our  crossing  the  last  two  streams,  that  we 
were  going  too  far  north — that  we  were  in  fact  in  the  valley  of  the  Mis- 
souri proper ;  and  that  the  information  ohtaincd  of  the  hunters  on  the  source 
of  the  Merrimack,  was  not  to  he  implicitly  relied  on.  It  is  not  probable  that 
one  of  the  persons  who  gave  this  information  had  ever  been  here.  It  was 
a  region  they  were  kept  out  of  by  the  fear  of  the  Osages,  as  our  own  ex- 
perience in  the  case  of  Roberts  denoted.  Willing  to  test  it  farther,  how- 
ever, we  followed  down  the  last  named  stream  a  few  miles,  in  the  hope  of 
its  turning  south  or  south-west,  but  it  went  olT  in  another  direction.  We 
then  came  to  a  halt,  and  after  consiihing  together,  steered  our  course  due 
sou/A  south-west,  thus  varying  our  general  course  from  the  caves.  This 
carried  us  up  a  long  range  of  wooded  highlands.  The  forest  here  as- 
sumed a  handsome  growth.  We  passed  through  a  track  of  the  over-cup 
oak,  interspersed  with  hickory,  and  had  reached  the  summit  of  an  elevated 
wooded  ridge,  when  just  as  we  gained  the  highest  point,  we  discovered 
four  bears  on  a  large  oak,  in  the  valley  before  us.  Three  of  the  number 
were  probably  cubs,  and  with  their  dam,  they  were  regaling  themselves 
on  the  ripe  acorns  without  observing  us.  We  had  sought  no  opportunities 
to  Itunt,  and  given  up  no  especial  time  to  it,  but  here  was  too  fair  a  chal- 
lenge to  be  neglect"  d.  We  tied  our  horse  securely  to  a  sapling,  and  then 
examining  our  pieces,  and  putting  down  an  extra  ball,  set  out  to  descend 
die  hili  as  cautiously  as  possible.  An  unlucky  slip  of  Enobitti  threw  him 
with  force  forward  and  sprained  his  nnKIe.  He  lay  for  a  short  time  in 
tgony.  This  noise  alarmed  the  bears,  who  one  after  the  other  quickly 
run  in  from  the  extremities  ot  the  I'-nbs  to  the  trunk,  which  they  descended 

57 


'!! 


11 


58 


ADVKNTUIIES  IN  THE    OZARK  MOUNTAINS. 


head  first,  and  scampered  clumsily  olF  up  the  valley.  I  pursued  tnem 
without  minding  my  companion,  not  knowing,  indeed  how  badly  he  was 
hurt,  but  was  compelled  to  give  up  the  chase,  as  the  tall  grass  finally  pre- 
vented my  seeing  what  course  tln-y  had  taken.  1  now  returned  to  my 
companion.  He  could  not  stand  at  first,  nor  walk  when  he  arose,  and  the 
first  agony  had  passed.  I  proposed  to  mount  him  on  tiie  pack  horse,  and 
lead  him  slowly  up  the  valley,  and  this  plan  was  carried  into  educt.  But 
ho  endured  too  much  sufitring  to  bear  even  this.  The  ankle  began  to  in- 
flame. There  was  nothing  but  rest  and  continued  repose  that  promised 
relief.  1  selected  a  fine  grassy  spot  to  encamp,  unpacked  the  horse,  built 
a  fire,  and  got  my  patient  comfortably  stretched  on  his  pallet.  But  little 
provision  had  been  made  at  Potosi  in  the  medical  depaitment.  My  whole 
store  of  pharmacy  consisted  of  some  pills  and  salves,  and  a  few  simple 
articles.  The  only  thing  I  could  think  of  as  likely  to  be  serviceable,  was 
in  our  culinary  puck, — it  was  a  little  sack  of  salt,  and  of  this  I  made  a 
solution  in  warm  water  and  bathed  the  ankle.  1  then  replenished  the 
fire  and  cut  some  wood  to  renew  it.  It  was  still  early  in  the  day,  and 
leaving  my  companion  to  rest,  and  to  the  cfTect  of  the  remedy  ofltred,  i 
took  my  gun  and  strolled  over  the  adjoining  hills,  in  hopes  of  bringing 
in  some  pigeons,  or  other  small  game.  But  it  was  a  time  of  day  when 
both  birds  and  quadrupeds  have  finished  their  mornings  repast,  ai  J  retiretf 
to  the  groves  or  fastnesses.  I  saw  nothing  but  the  little  grey  bunting, 
and  the  noisy  jay.  When  I  returned  to  our  camp  in  the  vale  I  found  my 
companion  easier.  The  bathing  had  sensibly  alleviated  the  pain  and 
swelling.  It  was  therefore  diligently  renewed,  und  the  next  morning  he 
was  so  far  improved,  that  he  consented  to  try  the  pack  horse  again.  We  had 
not,  however,  travelled  far,  when  two  large  bears  were  seen  before  us  play- 
ing in  the  grass,  and  so  engaged  in  their  sport,  that  ihey  did  not  perceive  us. 
We  were  now  on  the  same  level  with  them,  and  quickly  prepared  to  give 
them  battle.  My  companion  disinountcd  as  easily  as  possible,  and  having 
secured  the  horse  and  examined  our  arms,  we  reached  a  stand  within  firing 
distance.  It  was  not  till  this  moment  that  our  approach  was  discovered  by 
them,  and  the  first  thing  they  did  after  running  a  few  yards,  was  to  sit  up  in 
the  grass  and  gaze  at  us.  Having  each  singled  his  animal,  we  fired  at  the 
same  instant.  Both  animals  fied,  but  on  reaching  the  spot  where  my 
mark  had  sat,  blood  was  copiously  found  on  the  grass,  and  a  pursuit  was 
the  consequence.  I  followed  him  up  a  long  ridge,  but  he  passed  over  the 
summit  so  i'ar  before  me,  that  I  lost  sight  of  him.  I  came  to  a  large  hol- 
low black  oak,  in  the  direction  he  had  disappeared,  wiiich  showed  the  nail 
marks  of  some  animal,  which  I  believed  to  be  his.  While  exa- 
mining these  signs  more  closely  my  companion  made  his  appear- 
ance. How  he  had  got  there  I  know  not.  The  excitement  had  well 
nigh  cured  his  ancle  He  stood  by  the  orifice,  while  I  went  for 
the  axe  to  our  camp,  and  when  I  was  tired  chopping,  he  laid  hold. 


} 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE   OZ.VIIK    MOUNTAINS. 


fi9 


Wo  chopped  alternately,  and  big  as  it  was,  the  tree  at  last  came  down 
with  a  crash  that  made  the  forest  ring.  For  a  few  moments  we  looked  nt 
the  huge  and  partly  broken  trunk  as  if  a  bear  would  start  from  it ;  but  all 
was  silence.  We  thoioughly  searched  the  iiollow  part  but  found  nothing. 
I  wont  over  another  ridge  of  forest  land,  started  a  noble  elk,  but  saw 
nothing  more  of  my  bear.  Hero  terminated  this  adventure.  W^e  retraced 
our  footsteps  back  to  the  valley,  and  proceeded  on  our  route.  Tiiis  inci- 
dent had  led  us  a  little  south  of  our  true  course;  and  it  so  turned  out  that 
it  was  atn  point,  where  a  mile  or  two  one  way  or  the  other,  was  calculated 
to  make  a  wide  difference  in  the  place  of  our  e.\it  into  the  valley  of  White 
River ;  for  we  were  on  a  high  broken  summit  ridge,  from  which  several 
important  streams  originated.  The  pursuit  of  the  bear  had  carried  ns 
near  to  the  head  of  the  valley,  and  by  crossing  the  intervening  summit,  we 
found  ourselves  at  the  head  springs  of  an  important  stream,  which  in  due 
time  we  learned  was  the  Great  North  Fork  of  White  River.  This  stream 
begins  to  develope  itself  m  pools,  or  standing  springs,  which  soak  through 
the  gravel  and  boulders,  and  it  is  many  miles  before  it  assumes  the  cha- 
racter of  a  continuous  strean..  Even  tiven  it  proceeds  in  plateaux  or 
steps,  on  which  the  water  has  a  level,  and  the  ne.\t  succeeding  level  below 
it  has  its  connection  with  it,  through  a  rapid.  In  fact,  the  whole  stream, 
till  near  its  mouth,  is  one  series  of  these  lake-like  levels,  and  short  rapids, 
each  level  sinking  lower  and  lower,  till,  like  the  locks  in  a  canal,  the  last 
flows  out  on  a  level  with  its  final  recipient.  But  however  its  waters  are 
congregated,  they  are  all  pure  and  colourless  as  rock  crystal,  and  well  vin- 
dicate the  propriety  of  their  original  name  of  la  Ririire  Jitu/ic.  Th(;y  all 
originate  in  mountain  springs,  are  cool  and  sparkling,  and  give  assurance 
in  this  feature,  that  they  will  carry  heahh  to  the  future  inhabitants  of  the 
valley  through  which  they  flow.  With  the  first  springs  begins  to  be  seen 
a  small  growth  of  the  cane,  which  is  found  a  constant  species  on  its  bot- 
tom lands.  This  plant  becomes  high  in  more  southern  latitudes,  and  being 
intertwined  with  the  green  briar,  renders  it  very  difficult,  as  we  soon  found, 
to  penetrate  it,  especially  with  a  horse.  Man  can  endure  a  thousand  ad- 
ventures and  hardships  where  a  horse  would  die;  and  it  would  require  no 
further  testimony  than  this  journey  gave,  to  convince  me,  that  providence 
designed  the  horse  for  a  state  of  civilization. 

We  followed  the  course  of  these  waters  about  six  miles,  and  emcamped. 
It  was  evidently  the  source  of  a  stream  of  some  note.  It  ran  in  the  re- 
quired direction,  and  although  we  did  not  then  know,  that  it  was  the 
valley  of  the  Great  North  Fork  of  White  River,  we  were  satisfied  it  was 
a  tributary  of  the  latter  stream,  and  determined  to  pursue  it.  This  we 
did  for  twelve  days,  before  we  met  with  a  human  being,  white  or  red.  It 
rapidly  developed  itself,  as  we  went,  and  unfolded  an  important  valley,  of 
rich  soil,  bearing  a  vigorous  growth  of  forest  trees,  and  enclosed  on  either 
hand,  by  elevated  limestone  clifls.     Nothing  could  exceed  the  purity  of 


ii 


^^'fPFI^WWf     ■ 


■0  AOVENTURKB    IN   TIIR    OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 

its  waters,  whicli  bublileJ  up  in  copious  springs,  from  the  rock,  or  pebble 
stratum.  For  a  long  distunce  ttit;  stream  iiicrcu^ed  from  such  ucccssions 
alono,  without  hirgo  and  induptMident  tributurics.  Un  the  second  day's 
travel,  wo  ciitno  to  a  spring,  of  this  crystal  chiirucler,  which  we  judged  to 
bo  about  (ii\y  ('eet  across,  at  the  point  of  its  issue  from  the  rock  and  soil, 
its  outlet  after  running  about  a  thousand  yards.  Joined  the  main  stream,  to 
which  it  brings  a  volume  fully  ecpial  to  it  'J'his  spring  i  named  the  Elk 
Spring,  from  the  circumstance  of  finding  a  large  pair  of  the  horns  of  this 
animal,  partly  buried  in  the  leaves,  at  a  spot  where  1  stooped  down  to 
drink.  I  took  the  horns,  and  hung  them  in  the  forks  of  a  young  oak 
tree. 

We  found  abundance  of  game  in  this  valley.  There  was  not  an  entire 
day,  I  think,  until  we  got  near  the  hunters'  camps,  that  we  did  not  see 
either  the  bear,  elk,  or  deer,  or  their  recent  signs.  Flocks  of  the  wild  tur- 
key were  of  daily  occurrence.  The  gray  sijuirrcl  frequently  sported  on 
the  trees,  and  as  the  stream  increased  in  size,  we  found  the  duck,  brant 
and  swan. 

There  were  two  serious  objections,  however,  in  travelling  down  a 
wooded  valley  Its  shrubbery  was  so  thick  and  rank  that  it  was  next  to 
impossible  to  force  the  pack  horse  through  it.  Wherever  the  cane  abounds, 
and  this  comprehends  all  its  true  alluvions,  it  is  found  to  be  matted  to- 
gether, as  it  were,  with  the  green  briar  and  grape  vine.  So  much  noiso 
attended  the  cflort  at  any  rate,  that  the  game  generally  fled  before  us,  and 
had  it  not  been  for  small  game,  we  should  have  often  wanted  a  meal. 
With  every  effort,  we  could  not  make  an  average  of  more  than  fourteen 
miles  a  day.  The  river  was  so  tortuous  too,  that  we  could  not  count, 
on  making  more  than  half  this  distance,  in  a  direct  line.  To  remedy 
these  evils  we  sometimes  went  out  of  the  valley,  on  the  open  naked  plains. 
It  was  a  relief,  but  had,  in  the  end,  these  diHiculties,  that  while  the  plains 
exposed  us  to  greater  heats  in  travelling,  they  afforded  no  water,  and  we 
often  lost  much  time  in  the  necessity,  we  were  under,  towards  night-fall,  of 
going  back  to  the  valley  for  water.  Neither  was  it  found  to  be  safe 
to  travel  far  separated,  for  there  were  many  causes  of  accident,  which 
rendered  mutual  assistance  desirable.  One  day,  while  Enobitti  led  the 
horse,  and  was  conducting  him  from  a  lofty  ridge,  to  get  into  the 
valley,  the  animal  stumbled,  and  rolled  to  the  bottom.  We  thought 
every  bone  in  his  body  had  been  broke,  but  he  had  been  protected  by  his 
pack,  and  we  found  that  he  was  but  little  injured,  and  when  repacked, 
still  capable  of  going  forward.  On  another  occasion,  1  had  been  leading 
him  for  several  hours,  along  a  high  terrace  of  cliffs  on  the  left  banks 
where  this  terrace  was,  as  it  were,  suddenly  cut  off"  by  the  intersection  of 
a  lateral  valley.  The  view  was  a  sublime  one,  standing  at  the  pinna- 
cle of  junction  ;  but  there  was  no  possible  way  of  descent,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  retrace  my  steps,  a  long — long  way.     As  an  instance  of  the  very 


ADVENTURES    IN  THE    OZAHK    MOUNTAINS. 


61 


lorttious  character  of  thiri  Mrcain,  I  will  inciilion  that  a  rocky  peninsula, 
causing  n  botxi  which  it  took  my  companion  somi;  two  hours  to  pass, 
with  the  horse,  I  had  cniJiscil    in    less   ihaii  twiiiiy  minutes,  with  my 
hammer  and  gun.      When  wo  iiad,  as  we  supposed,  beconjo    I'amiliar 
with  every  species  of  inipe'iiment  and  delay,  in  descending  the  valley,  a 
new,  and  very  serious  and  unexpected  one,  arose  one  day,  in  crossing'  the 
stream,  from  the  left  to  the  rij^ht  bmik.     It  was  iii)  turn  to  be  muleteer 
that  day,  and  I  had  selected  a  ford  where  the  river  was  not  wide,  and  the 
water,  apparently,  some  two  or  three  feet  deep.     I  judged  from  the  clearness 
of  the  pebbles  at  the  bottom,  and  their  apparent  nearnes:'  .o  the  surface. 
But  such  was  the  transparency  of  the  water,  that  a  wid(!  mistake  wm 
made.     We  had  nearly  lost  the  horse,  he  plunged  in  over  head,  ct'ild  nci 
touch  bottom,  and  when  with  great  ado,  we  had  got  him  up  l!'e  steep  he-ik 
on  the  other  side,  he  was  completely  exhausted.  But  this  was  not  the  extent 
of  the  evil.     t)ur  sugar  and  salt  were  dissolved.    Our  meal,  of  which  a  little 
still  remained,  was  spoiled,  Our  tea  was  damaged, — our  blankets  and  cloth- 
ing  wetted, — our  whole  pack  soaked.      The  horse  had  been  so  Kv^,  '.i\ 
the  water,  in  our  often  fruitless  efforts  to  get  him  to  some  part  of  the  bnnl; 
depressed  enough,  to  pull  hun  up,  that  nothing  had  escaped  its  effects. 
We  encamped  on  the  spot,  and  spent  the  rest  of  the  day  in  drying  our 
cfTects,  and  expelling  from  our  spare  garments  the  superfluous  moisture. 
The  next  day  we  struck  out  into  the  high  plains,  on  the  right  bank,  and 
made  a  good  day's  journey.     The  country  was  nearly  level,  denud  d  of 
trees,  with  sere  autumnal  grass.     Often  the  prairie  hen  started  up,  but 
we  saw  nothing  in  the  animal  creation  beside,  save  a  few  hares,  as  even- 
ing came  on.     To  find  water  for  the  horse,  and   ourselves,   we  were 
again  compelled  to  approach  the  valley.     We  at  length  entered  a  dry  and 
desolate  gorge,  without  grass  or  water.     Night  came  on,  but  no  sound 
or  sight  of  water  occurred.     We  were  sinking  dcep^   ^i' ■'  deeper  into  the 
rocky  structure  of  the  country  at  every  step,  and  tn.jM  found  there  were 
high  clitTs  on  either  side  of  us.     What  we  most  feared  now  occurred.     It 
became  dark,  the  clouds  had  threatened  foul  weather  and  it  now  began  to 
rain.     Had   it  not  been  for  a  cavern,  which  diiiclosed  itself,  in  one  of 
these  calcareous  cliffs,  we  must  have  pas.-(\!  a  miserable  night.     On  enter- 
ing It,  we  found  a  spring  of  water.     It  was  too  high  in  the  cliff  to  get  the 
hoise  in,  but  we  carried  him  W)ter  in  a  vessel.     He  was  afterwards  hob- 
bled, and  left  to  shift  for  himself.     On  striking  a  fire,  in  the  cave,  its  rays 
disclosed  misses  of  stalactites,  and  a  dark  avenue  into  the  rocks  back. 
Having  made  a  cup  of  tea  and  finished  our  repast,  we  determined  to  ex- 
plore the  cavo  before  lying  down  to  rest,  lest  we  might  be  intruded  on  by 
some  wild  animal  before  morning.    A  torch  of  pine  wood  was  soon  made, 
which  guided  our  footsteps  mto  the  dismal  recess,  but  we  found  nothing 
of  the  kind.     On  returning  to  our  fire,  near  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  we 
found  the  rain  had  increased  to  a  heavy  shower,  and  the  vivid  flashes  of 


62 


ADVENTUUES    IN   THE    OZARK    MOUNTAINS. 


lightning,  illumined  with  momentary  brilliancy,  the  dark  and  frowning 
precipices  of  this  romantic  gorge.  The  excitement  and  novelty  of  our  po- 
sition, served  to  drive  away  sleep,  notwithstanding  a  long  day's  march,  and 
it  was  late  before  we  sought  repose. 

Morning  brought  a  clear  sky,  but  the  horse  was  gone.  He  had  fol- 
lowed on  the  back  track,  up  the  glen,  in  search  of  something  to  feed  upon, 
and  was  not  found  till  we  reached  the  skirts  of  the  plains.  The  whole 
morning  was  indeed,  lost  in  reclaiming  him,  and  we  then  set  forward 
again  and  returned  to  the  North  Fork  valley.  We  found  it  had  assumed 
a  greater  e.vpansc,  at  the  point  of  our  re-entry,  which  it  maintained,  and 
increased,  as  we  pursued  it  down.  Wide  open  oak  plains  extended 
on  the  left  bank,  which  appeared  very  eligible  for  the  purposes  of  set- 
tlement. On  an  oak  tree,  at  this  spot,  we  observed  some  marks,  which 
had  probably  been  made  by  some  enterprising  land  explorer.  With  these 
improved  evidences  of  its  character  for  future  occupation,  we  found  the 
travelling  easier.  Within  a  few  miles  travel,  we  noticed  a  tributary  com- 
ing in  on  the  left  bank,  and  at  a  lower  point  another  on  the  left.  The 
first  stream  had  this  peculiarity,  that  its  waters  came  in  at  a  right  angle, 
with  the  parent  stream,  and  with  such  velocity  as  to  pass  directly  across 
its  channel  to  the  opposite  bank.  In  this  vicinity,  we  saw  many  of  the 
deserted  pole  camps  of  the  Osages,  none  of  which  appeared,  however,  to 
have  been  recently  occupied.  So  far,  indeed,  we  had  met  no  hindrance,  or 
annoyance  from  this  people  ;  we  had  not  even  encountered  a  single  mem- 
ber of  the  tribe,  and  felt  assured  that  the  accounts  we  had  received  of  their 
cruelty  and  rapacity,  had  been  grossly  exaggerated,  or  if  not  wholly 
overcoloured,  they  must  have  related  to  a  period  in  their  history,  which 
was  now  well  nigh  past.  We  could  not  learn  that  they  had  hunted  on 
these  lands,  during  late  years,  and  were  afterwards  given  to  understand 
that  they  had  ceded  them  to  the  United  States  by  a  treaty  concluded  at  St. 
Loi'is.  From  whatever  causes,  however,  the  district  had  been  left  free 
from  their  roving  parties,  it  was  certain  that  the  game  had  recovered  un- 
der such  a  cessation  of  the  chase.  The  black  bear,  deer  and  elk,  were 
abundant.  We  also  frequently  saw  signs  of  the  labours  of  the  beaver 
along  the  valley.  I  had  the  good  luck,  one  day,  while  in  advance  with 
my  gun,  of  beholding  two  of  these  animals,  at  play  in  the  stream,  and  ob- 
eerving  their  graceful  motions.  My  position  was,  within  point  blank  shot 
of  them,  but  I  was  screened  from  their  gaze.  I  sat,  with  gun  cocked, 
meaning  to  secure  one  of  them  after  they  came  to  the  shore.  Both  ani- 
mals came  out  together,  and  sat  on  the  bank  at  the  edge  of  the  river,  a 
ledge  of  rocks  being  in  the  rear  of  them.  The  novelty  of  the  sight  led 
me  to  pauRv?,  and  admire  them,  when,  all  of  a  sudden,  they  darted  into  a 
crevice  in  the  rock. 

On  the  second  day  after  re-entering  the  valley,  we  descried,  on  descend- 
ing a  long  slope  of  rising  ground,  a  hunter's  cabin,  covered  with  narrow 


ilii 


ADVENTURES    IN   THE    OZARK   MOUNTAINS. 


63 


oak  boards,  split  with  a  frow;  and  were  exliilaratcd  with  the  idea  of  find- 
ing it  occupied.  But  this  turned  out  a  dehjsive  hope.  It  had  been  de- 
serted, from  appearance,  the  year  before.  Wc  found,  among  the  surround- 
ing weeds,  a  few  stems  of  the  cotton  plant,  which  had  grown  up  from 
seeds,  accidentally  dropped.  The  bolls  hud  opened.  I  picked  out  the 
cotton  to  serve  as  a  material  in  lighting  my  camp  fires,  at  night,  this  be- 
ing a  labour  which  I  h;id  taken  the  exclusive  management  of  The  site 
of  this  camp,  had  been  well  chosen.  There  was  a  small  stream  in  front, 
and  a  heavy  rich  cane  bottom  behind  it,  extending  to  the  banks  of  the 
river.  A  handsome  point  of  woodlands  extended  north  of  it,  from  the 
immediate  door  of  the  camp.  And  although  somewhat  early  in  the  day, 
we  determined  to  encamp,  and  soon  made  ourselves  masters  of  the  fabric, 
and  sat  down  before  a  cheerful  fire,  with  a  title  to  occupancy,  which  there 
was  no  one  to  dispute. 


free 
un- 
were 
aver 
with 

ob- 
shot 
ked, 
ani- 
er,  a 

led 
nto  a 

:end- 
rrow 


THE  BIRD. 

VERSIFIED    FROM   THE   GERMAN   OF   GESSNER :     1812. 

A  swain,  as  he  strayed  through  the  grove. 
Had  caught  a  young  bird  on  a  spray — 

What  a  gift,  he  exclaimed,  for  my  love, 
How  beautiful,  charming,  and  gay. 

With  rapture  he  viewed  the  fair  prize. 
And  listened  with  joy  to  its  chat, 

As  with  haste  to  the  meadow  he  hies 
To  secure  it  beneath  his  straw  hat. 

I  will  make  of  yon  willows  so  gay, 
A  cage  for  my  prisoner  to  mourn, 

Then  to  Delia,  the  gift  I'll  convey, 
And  beg  for  a  kiss  in  return. 

She  will  grant  me  that  one,  I  am  sure, 
For  a  present  so  rare  and  so  gay. 

And  I  easily  can  steal  a  few  more 
And  bear  them  enraptured  away. 

He  returned  ;  but  imagine  his  grief. 
The  wind  had  his  hat  overthrown. 

And  the  bird,  in  the  joy  of  relief. 
Away  with  his  kisses  had  flown. 

H.  a  a. 


W"!"' 


"',iaii.,t.iijii!i|yM,  W'«i      ..;.J''»j«i.|i  ■I'JijIjliipK^ 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS  AND  IMPRESSIONS  OF  THE  INDIAN  RACE, 
DRAWN  FROM  NOTES  OF  TRAVEL  AND  RESIDENCE  IN  THEIR 
TERRITORIES. 

CHARACTER  OF  THE  RED  MAN  OF  AMERICA. 

iNauiRY  I. — What  kind  of  a  being  is  the  North  American  Indian  ? — Have  we  judged 
rightly  of  him  ? — What  are  his  peculiar  traits,  liis  aiTections,  and  his  intellectual 
qualities  ? — Is  he  much  influenced  by  his  religion,  his  mode  of  government,  and  his 
complicated  language. 

My  earliest  impressions  of  the  Indian  race,  were  drawn  from  the  fire- 
side rehearsals  of  incidents  which  had  happened  during  the  perilous 
times  of  the  American  revolution  ;  in  which  my  father  was  a  zealous  actor, 
and  were  all  inseparably  connected  with  the  fearful  ideas  of  the  Indian 
yell,  the  tomahawk,  the  scalping  knife,  and  the  fire  brand.  In  these  reci- 
tals, the  Indian  was  depicted  as  the  very  impersonation  of  evil — a  sort  of 
wild  demon,  who  delighted  in  nothing  so  much  as  blood  and  murder, 
Whether  he  had  mind,  was  governed  by  any  reasons,  or  even  had  any 
soul,  nobody  inquired,  and  nobody  cared.  It  was  always  represented  as  a 
meritorious  a.  t  in  old  revolutionary  reminiscences,  to  have  killed  one  of 
them  in  the  border  wars,  and  thus  aided  in  ridding  the  land  of  a  cruel  and 
unnatural  race,  in  whom  all  feelings  of  pity,  justice,  and  mercy,  were 
supposed  to  be  obliterated.  These  early  ideas  were  sustained  by  printed 
narratives  of  captivity  and  hair-breadth  escapes  of  men  and  women  from 
their  clutches,  which,  from  time  to  time,  fell  into  my  hands,  so  that  long 
before  I  was  ten  years  old,  I  had  a  most  definite  and  terrific  idea  impressed 
on  my  imagination  of  what  was  sometimes  called  in  my  native  precincts, 
"  the  bow  and  arrow  race." 

To  give  a  definite  conception  of  the  Indian  man,  there  lived  in  my  na- 
tive valley,  a  family  of  Indians  of  the  Iroquois  stock,  who  often  went  off 

04 


K   lllll 

r  m 

c 
:W  '/li 

w 


p 
hi 


1 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


65 


to  their  people  in  the  west,  and  as  often  returned  again,  as  if  thoy  were  a 
troop  of  genii,  or  the  ghosts  of  the  departed,  who  came  to  haunt  the  nut 
wood  forests,  iuul  suh-vallies  of  the  sylvan  Tawasenthaw,  whicii  their  an- 
cestors had  formerly  possessed,  and  to  which  they  still  claimed  some  right. 
In  this  firnily,  which  w;is  of  the  Oneida  trihe,  and  consisted  of  the  hus- 
h:ind  and  wife,  with  two  grown  up  sons.  I  hrst  saw  those  characteristic 
featiires^of  the  race, — namely,  a  red  skin,  with  bright  black  eyes,  and 
hiai'k  straight  hair.  They  were  mild  and  docile  in  their  deportment,  and 
wevc  on  fiiendly  terms  with  tlie  whole  settlement,  whom  they  furnished 
with  neatly  made  baskets  of  the  linden  wood,  split  very  thin,  and  coloured 
to  impart  variety,  and  with  nice  ash  brooms.  These  fabrics  niado 
them  welcome  guests  with  every  good  housewife,  who  had  forgotten  the 
horrific  stories  of  the  revolution,  and  who  was  ever  ready  to  give  a  chair 
and  a  plate,  and  a  lodging  place  by  the  kitchen  fire,  to  poor  old  Isaac  and 
Anna,  for  so  they  had  been  named.  What  their  original  names  were, 
nobod\'^  knew ;  they  had  lived  so  long  in  the  valley  that  they  spoke  the 
Dutch  language,  and  never  made  use  of  their  own,  except  when  talking 
together;  and  I  recollect,  we  thought  it  a  matter  of  wonder,  when  they 
discoursed  in  Indian,  whether  such  a  guttural  jargon,  could  possibly  be 
the  medium  of  conveying  any  very  definite  ideas.  It  seemed  to  be  one 
undistinguished  tissue  of  hard  sounds,  blending  all  parts  of  speech 
together. 

Mad  the  boys  of  my  own  age,  and  I  may  say,  the  grown  people, 
stopped  to  reflect,  and  been  led  to  consider  this  family  and  their  race  in 
America,  independently  of  their  gross  acts,  under  the  strong  excitements 
of  war  and  revenge,  goaded  by  wrongs,  and  led  on  by  the  class  of  revo- 
lutionary tories,  more  implacable  than  even  themselves,  we  must  have 
seen,  in  the  peaceable  lives,  quiet  manners,  and  benevolent  dispositions  of 
these  four  people,  a  contradiction  to,  at  least,  some  part  of  the  sweeping 
conclusions  above  noticed.  But  no  such  thoughts  occurred.  The  word 
"  Indian,"  was  synonymous  then,  as  perhaps  now,  with  half  the  opprobri- 
ous epithets  in  the  dictionary.  I  recollect  to  have  myself  made  a  few  lines, 
m  early  life,  on  the  subject,  which  ran  thus : — 

Indians  they  were,  ere  Colon  crossed  the  sea, 
And  ages  lience,  tliey  shall  but  Indians  be. 

Fortunately  I  was  still  young  when  my  sphere  of  observation  was  en- 
larged, by  seeing  masses  of  them,  in  their  native  forests  ;  and  I,  after  a  few 
years,  assumed  a  position  as  government  agent  to  one  of  the  leading  tribes, 
at  an  age  when  opinions  are  not  too  firmly  rooted  to  permit  change.  My 
opinions  were  still,  very  much  however,  what  they  had  been  in  boyhood. 
I  loo!:ed  upon  them  as  very  cannibals  and  blood-thirsty  fellows,  who  were 
only  waiting  a  good  opportunity  to  knock  one  in  the  head.  But  I  regarded 
them  as  a  curious  subject  of  observation.  The  remembrance  o*  poor  old 
Isaac,  had  shown  me  that  there  was  some  feeling  and  humanity  in  their 


66 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


breasts.  I  hail  seen  many  of  them  in  my  travels  in  the  west,  and  I  felt 
inclined  to  inquire  into  the  traits  of  a  people,  among  whom  my  duties  had 
placed  me.  I  had,  from  early  youth,  felt  pleased  with  the  study  of  natural 
history,  and  I  thought  the  Indian,  at  least  in  his  languages,  might  be 
studied  with  something  of  tlie  same  mode  of  exactitude.  I  had  a  strong 
propensity,  at  this  time  of  life,  for  analysis,  and  I  believed  that  somithing 
like  an  analytical  process  might  be  ap|>lied  to  eiupiiries,  at  least  in  the 
department  of  philology.  Whenever  a  litct  occurred,  in  the  progress  of 
my  official  duties,  which  I  deemed  characteristic,  I  made  note  of  it,  and  in 
this  way  preserved  a  sort  of  skeleton  of  dates  and  events,  which,  it  was 
believed,  would  be  a  source  of  useful  future  reference.  It  is,  in  truth, 
under  advantages  of  the  kind,  that  these  remarks  are  commenced. 

The  author  has  thrown  out  these  remarks,  as  a  starting  point.  He  has 
made  observations  which  do  not,  in  all  respects,  coincide  with  the  com- 
monly received  opinions,  and  drawn  some  conclusions  which  are  directly 
adverse  to  them.  He  has  been  placed  in  scenes  and  circumstances  of 
varied  interest,  and  met  with  many  cliaractiMS,  in  the  course  of  four  and 
twenty  years'  residence  and  travel  in  the  wilds  of  America,  who  would 
have  struck  any  observer  as  oriirinal  and  interesting:.  Willi  numbers  of 
them,  he  has  formed  an  intimate  acquaintance,  and  with  not  a  kw,  con- 
tracted lasting  friendsliips.  Cormected  with  them  by  a  long  residence,  by 
the  e.xcrcise  of  official  duties,  and  by  still  more  delicate  and  sacred  ties,  he 
has  btM^n  regarded  by  them  as  one  identified  with  their  history,  and  received 
many  marks  of  their  confidence. 

The  Indians,  viewed  as  a  distinct  branch  of  tlie  human  race,  have  some 
peculiar  traits  and  institutions,  from  which  their  history  and  character  may 
be  advantageously  studied.  They  hold  some  opinions,  which  are  not 
easily  discovered  by  a  stranger,  or  a  foreigner,  but  which  yet  e.xert  a  pow- 
erful influence  on  their  conduct  and  life.  There  is  a  sulith'ty  in  some  of 
their  modes  of  thought  and  belief,  on  life  and  the  e.\istence  of  spiritual  and 
creative  power,  which  would  seem  to  have  been  eliminated  fiom  some 
intellectual  crucil)le,  without  the  limits  of  their  present  sphere.  Yet,  there 
is  much  relative  to  all  the  common  concerns  of  life,  which  is  peculiar  to 
it.  The  author  has  witnessed  many  practices  and  observanci's,  such  as 
travellers  have  often  noticed,  but  like  others,  attributed  them  to  accidr'iit, 
or  to  some  cause  widely  different  from  the  true  one.  By  degrees,  he  has 
been  admitted  into  their  opinions,  and  if  we  may  so  call  it,  the  {>hilosophy 
of  theii  minds;  and  the  life  of  an  Indian  no  longer  appears  to  him  a 
mystery.  He  sees  hiin  acting,  as  other  men  would  act,  if  placed  exactly 
in  his  condition,  prepared  with  the  education  the  forest  has  given  lum,  and 
tiurrounded  with  the  same  wants,  temptations  and  dangers. 

The  gentler  affections  are  in  much  more  extensive  and  powerful  exer- 
cise among  the  Indian  race,  than  is  generally  believed,  although  necessa- 
rily developed  with  less  refinement  than  in  civilized  society.     Their  pater- 


in 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


67 


some 
may 
not 
povv- 

of 
and 
ome 
here 
;ir  to 
li  as 
I'tit, 
has 
ophy 
ini  a 
actly 
,  and 

cxer- 

cnssa- 
pater- 


.1 


nal  and  fraternal  afTiH-tions,  havo  long  been  known  to  be  very  strong,  as 
well  as  their  veneration  for  tiie  dead.  It  has  been  his  i)rovince  in  these 
departments,  to  odd  some  strilcing  examples  of  lluir  intensity  of  feeling 
and  aflection,  and  truliifiilness  to  nature. 

The  most  powerful  source  of  iiitliieiiee,  with  tlie  Red  man,  is  his  religion. 
Here  is  tiie  true  groutuiworli  of  his  hopes  and  his  fears,  and.  it  is  believed, 
the  fruitful  source  of  his  opinions  and  actions.  It  supplies  the  system  of 
thought  by  which  he  lives  and  dies,  and  it  consiitutis,  indeed,  tlie  basis 
of  Indian  character.  IJy  it  he  preserves  liis  identity,  as  a  barbarian,  and 
when  this  is  taken  away,  and  the  true  system  substituted,  he  is  still  a  Red 
Man,  but  no  longer,  in  tiie  popular  sense,  an  Luliu/i — a  barbarian,  a 
pagan. 

The  Indian  religion  is  a  peculiar  compound  of  rites,  and  doctrines,  and 
observances,  which  are  early  taught  the  children  by  precept  and  example. 
In  this  respect,  every  b.ark-buill  village  is  a  temple,  and  every  forest  a 
school.  It  would  surprise  any  person  to  become  acquainted  with  the 
variety  and  extent  to  which  an  Indian  is  influenced  by  his  religious  views 
and  superstitions.  He  takes  no  important  step  without  reference  to  it. 
It  is  his  guiding  motive  in  peace  and  in  war.  He  follows  the  chace  under 
its  influence,  and  his  very  amusements  take  their  tincture  from  it.  To  the 
author,  the  facts  have  been  developing  themselves  for  many  years,  and 
while  he  is  able  to  account  for  the  peculiar  differences  between  the  con- 
duct of  Indians  and  that  of  white  men,  in  given  cases,  he  can  easily  per- 
ceive, why  the  latter  have  so  often  been  unable  to  calculate  the  actions  of 
the  former,  and  even  to  account  for  them,  when  they  have  taken  place. 
It  may  be  here  remarked,  that  the  civilized  man,  is  no  less  a  mysterious 
and  unaccountable  being  to  an  Indian,  because  his  springs  of  action  are 
alike  unintelligible  to  him. 

If  the  following  pages  shall  afford  the  public  any  means  of  judging  of 
(lie  Red  Race,  with  greater  accuracy,  he  hopes  they  may  lead  to  our 
treating  them  with  greater  kindness  and  a  more  enlarged  spirit  of  justice. 
Tiie  change  which  has  been  wrought  in  his  own  mind,  by  the  facts  he  has 
witnessed,  has  been  accompanied  by  a  still  more  important  one,  as  to  their 
intellectual  capacities  and  moral  susceptibilities,  and  their  consequent 
claims  on  the  philanthrojjy  of  the  age.  As  a  class  of  men,  it  is  thought 
their  native  speakers,  without  letters  or  education,  possess  a  higher  scope 
of  thought  and  illustration,  than  the  (.-orrcsponn'/iff  class  m  civilized  lil'e. 
1'his  may  be  accounted  for,  perhaps,  from  obvious  external  causes.  with« 
out  impugning  the  actual  native  capacity  of  the  lower,  although  educated 
classes  of  civilized  life.  Still,  it  is  a  very  striking  fact,  and  one  which  has 
very  often  forced  itself  on  the  attention  of  the  author.  The  old  idea  that 
the  Indian  mind  is  not  susceptible  of  a  high,  or  an  advantageous  develope- 
ment,  rests  upon  questionable  data.  The  two  principal  causes,  which 
have  prolonged  their  continuance  in  a  state  of  barbarism,  on  this  coatixieiU 


68 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


for  80  long  a  period,  aro  a  false  religion,  and  false  views  of  government. 
The  first  has  kept  back  social  prosperity  and  impeded  the  rise  of  virtue. 
With  respect  to  guvernnicnt,  during  all  the  time  we  have  had  them  for  neigh- 
bours, they  may  be  said  to  have  had  no  government  at  all.  Personal  inde- 
pendence, has  kept  tlie  petty  chiefs  from  forming  confederacies  for  the  com- 
mon good.  Individuals  have  surrendered  no  part  of  their  original  private 
rights,  to  secure  the  observance  of  the  rest.  There  has  been  no  public 
social  organization,  expressed  or  implied.  The  consequence  has  been  that 
the  law  of  private  redress  and  revenge  prevailed.  In  the  only  two  cases 
where  this  system  was  departed  from,  in  North  America,  namely  that  of 
the  Azteek  empire,  and  of  the  Iroquois  confederacy,  there  was  no  lack  of 
vigour  to  improve.  The  results  were  a  constantly  increasing  power,  and 
extending  degree  of  knowledge  up  to  the  respective  eras  of  their  conquest. 
It  was  not  want  of  mental  capacity,  so  much  as  the  non-existence  of  moral 
power,  and  of  the  doctrines  of  truth  and  virtue,  that  kept  them  back  ;  and 
left  our  own  wandering  tribes,  particularly,  with  the  bow  and  the  spear  in 
their  hands.  He  believes,  that  their  errors,  in  these  particulars,  may  be 
pointed  out,  without  drawing  conclusions  adverse  to  their  political  or 
social  prosperity,  under  better  auspicies,  and  without  attributing  such 
failures  to  mental  imbecility. 

The  mode  of  recording  thought,  among  these  tribes,  by  means  of  pic- 
torial signs,  and  mnemonic  symbols,  has  attracted  particular  attention,  and 
gives  the  author  hopes,  that  he  has  been  enabled  to  collect,  and  bring  for- 
ward, a  body  of  facts,  in  this  department,  which  will  recommend  them- 
selves by  their  interest  and  novelty.  Confidence,  inspired  by  long  resi- 
dence in  their  territories,  revealed  to  him  another  trait  of  character,  in  the 
existence  among  them  of  a  traditionary  imaginative  lore,  which  is  repeated 
from  father  to  son,  and  has  no  small  influence  upon  their  social  condition. 
It  is  m  these  two  departments,  that,  he  believes,  he  has  opened  new  and 
important  means  of  judging  of  the  Indian  character,  and  discovered  the 
sources  of  views  and  opinions,  on  many  subjects,  which  had  escaped  pre- 
vious inquirers. 

There  is  one  more  point,  to  which  he  will  here  invite  a  momentary  at- 
tention, and  which,  although  not  usually  enumerated  as  among  the  prac- 
tical causes  that  influenced  Indian  society  and  character,  is  yet  believed  to 
exercise  a  strong,  though  silent  sway,  both  upon  the  question  of  the  mental 
character,  and  its  true  development.  The  author  alludes  to  the  topic  of 
their  languages.  Some  of  the  most  venerated  writers  present  a  theory  of 
the  origin  of  national  government  languages  and  institutions,  difficult  or 
impossible  to  be  conformed  with  the  nature  of  man  in  society,  and  un- 
supported by  such  evidence  as  their  doctrines  require.  Such,  he  regards, 
rile  theory  of  the  "  social  compact,"  except  it  be  viewed  in  the  most  un- 
defined and  general  sense  possible.  Such,  also,  is  the  theory  of  the 
origin  and  improvement  o''  languages     The  system  of  government  gene- 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


69 


and 
the 
pre- 


ilt  or 
d  un- 
raids, 
it  un- 
the 
geno- 


n 


Tallj'  proviiilinnr  amono^  thn  fudian  trilx.'S.  is  indeed  so  simple  and  natural, 
under  ihoir  cii'cmnstani.'es,  tliat  it  is  lluiiiglit  no  person  would  lonj^'  seek 
for  the  traces  of  any  great  leyislalor,  giving  them  laws  in  any  past  period. 
When,  however,  we  consider  the  curious  structure  of  their  langutiges, 
we  find  an  ingenuity  and  complexity,  far  sur])assing  any  theory  to  bo 
disi,'overeil  in  that  of  the  modern  languages  of  Europe,  with,  perhaps,  some 
exceptions  in  the  Basque  an  I  Majyer,  and  even  beyond  any  thing  exist- 
ing in  the  Greek.  As  the  latter  has  long  been  held  up  as  a  model,  and 
the  excellencies  of  its  plan  attributed  to  some  unknown,  but  great  and  sa- 
gacious, learned  and  refined  mind,  we  might  feel  justified  in  assigning 
the  richness  of  forms,  the  exceeding  flexibility,  and  the  characteristic  beau- 
ties and  exccllencu'S  of  the  Indian  tongues,  to  a  mind  of  far  superior  wis- 
dom, ingenuity,  and  experience.  Yet  how  perfectly  gratuitous  would  this 
be!  All  history  bears  testimony  against  the  human  invention  and  de- 
signed alteration  of  language  ;  and  none  but  a  mere  theorist  can  ever  em- 
brace the  idea  that  it  is,  or  ever  was,  in  the  power  of  any  man,  to  fiibricato 
and  introduce  a  new  language,  or  to  effect  a  fundamental  change  in  the 
groundwork  of  an  existing  one.  This,  at  least,  is  the  decided  opinion 
of  the  author  ;  and  he  firmly  believes,  that  whoever  will  contemplate 
the  subject,  amidst  such  scenes  as  he  has  been  accustomed  to,  will  inevita- 
bly come  to  the  same  conclusion.  He  has  seen  changes  in  dialects 
commenced  and  progressive,  and  indications  of  others  going  on,  but  these 
owed  their  origin  and  impulse  to  accidental  circumstances,  and  were  not 
the  result  of  any  plan  or  design.  They  wore  the  result  of  necessity, 
convenience,  or  caprice.  These  three  causes,  that  is  to  say,  necessity 
convenience  arid  caprice,  if  properly  e.Kamined  and  appreciated  in  their 
influence,  and  traced  with  care  to  their  offtjcts,  will  develop  the  origin 
of  many  things,  whose  existence  has  been  sought  at  loo  great  a  distance, 
or  amidst  too  much  refinement. 

Books,  and  the  readers  of  books,  have  done  much  to  bewilder  and  per- 
plex the  study  of  the  Indian  character.  Fewer  theories  and  more  obser- 
vation, loss  fincy  and  more  fact,  might  have  brought  us  to  much  more 
correct  opinions  than  those  which  are  now  current.  The  Indian  is, 
after  all,  believed  to  be  a  man,  niuch  more  fully  under  the  influence  of 
common  sense  notions,  and  obvious  every-day  motives  of  thought  and 
action,  hope  and  fear,  than  he  parses  for.  If  he  does  not  come  to  the 
same  conclusions,  on  passing  (piestions,  as  we  do,  it  is  precisely  be- 
cause he  sees  the  premises,  under  widely  diff'erent  circumstances.  The 
admitted  errors  of  barbarism  and  the  admitted  truths  of  civilization,  are  two 
very  diflirent  codes.  He  is  in  want  of  almost  every  source  of  true  know- 
ledge and  opinion,  which  we  possess.  He  has  very  imperfect  notions 
on  many  of  those  branches  of  Icnowledge  in  what  we  suppose  him  best 
informed.  He  is  totally  in  the  dark  as  to  others.  His  vague  and 
vast  and  dreamy  notions  of  the  Great  Author  of  Existence,  and  the  node 


70 


PEIlS'0.\,\r,    IMIDI.NI'S    AM)    l.-Ml'HKy.SIONS. 


)f  liis 


tiKiiiifcfiliitiDns  to  tl 


ImiiKiii   nici',  mill  the  wi.Io  niid  i'oiii))liciiU'( 


sysifinol  sn|)('i>iiii  111  iiiiil  tniiu-ii'ciiilriit.il    iildl.iliy  "  Ih( 


nil's  I  oil  red 


upon 

of  tl 


this) 


lllSlfi 


P 


llllll,  III  III!'' 


ir  <n-|'!it 


pal 


tnilli 


at 


.1 


•I',  wiili  nil 
I'ivili/alioii. 


lis  syiiipiiMiii.v  :iii'l  llit'oncs,  (iiit 


T 


lis    l.s    CIl''    (ll    ihc    iciK 


h 


Klltig 


ciii"Uiiistam<  s  whicti  prevents  liiiii  IrDiii  (Iniwiiii,'  Ins  coiKi  imiuis  ;is  wo 
driiw  them.      I'laced  undKr  precisely  similar  cirfiimstani'cs,   we  sliniiKl 


perliaps  coniCKk'  in  his  niiiiium  ami  |ii,li;iiieiil.s,  bin  aMilr  'mmm  thrse  er- 
roneous views,  atiij  alter  inaUiiiif  just  allowances  I'ur  iiis  i^niiianee  ami 
moral  depression,  the  Indian  is  a  man  ol  plain  coniimm  sense  Jndg- 
ment,  acting  from  what  he  knows,  and  sees,  and  feels,  of  olijects  immedi- 
ately before  him,  or  palpable  to  his  view.  If  he  sometimes  employs  a 
highly  (igurative  stylo  to  coinmnnicate'  his  thoughts,  and  even  stoops,  as 
we  tniw  know  he  does,  to  amuse  his  fireside  circle  with  tales  of  extrava 
gnnt  and  often  wild  demonic  fancy,  ho  is  very  far  (Voin  being  a  man  who, 
in  his  afliiirs  of  lands,  and  merchandize,  and  business,  exchanges  the  sober 
thoughts  of  self  preservation  and  subsistence,  ('n,  the  airy  conceptions  of 
fancy.  The  ties  of  consanguinity  biml  him  strongly.  The  relation  of 
the  family  is  deep  and  well  traced  amongst  the  wildest  tribes,  and  this 
fact  alone  forms  a  basis  for  bringing  him  back  to  all  his  original  dnt^'S, 
and  re-organizing  Indian  society.  The  atitlior  has,  at  least,  been  thrown 
into  scenes  and  positions,  in  whiidi  this  truth  has  strongly  jiresented  itself 
to  his  mind,  and  he  believes  the  facts  are  of  a  cbaiacler  wliich  will 
interest  the  reader,  and  may  be  of  some  use  to  the  people  themsidvcS' 
so  fur  as  affects  the  benevoL  nt  plans  of  the  age,  if  they  do  not  constitute 
an  increment  in  the  body  of  observational  testimony,  of  a  practical  imtnre, 
from  which  the  character  of  the  race  is  to  be  judged. 


r 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS  AND  IMPRESSIONS  OF  THE  RED  RACE, 
DIIAWN  FROM  NOTES  OF  RESIDENCE  AND  TRAVEL  IN  THE  IN- 
DIAN TERRITORIES. 

DOMESTIC  CONDITION  OF  THE  TRIBES  AND  C0N3TUTI0N  OP  THE 
IiNDIAN  FAMILY. 

iNauiRY  II. — What  is  the  domestic  nonditioii  and  orgnni/ation  of  the  Indian  family? 
Ih  tho  tie  of  fonsaiii;iiinilS'  strori^f,  ami  wh.i'  cliiiracliTislin  facts  can  he  slati'd  of  it? 
Iluv\  are  llic  (ioini'stic  diilii'S  arraiii;i'd  ?  What  an-  fhr  riijhls  of  each  iamatf  uf  tiie 
lodge?  How  is  order  mniiilaiufd  ia  so  rDiifiiii'd  a  space,  uad  Ihc  <;i'ii(ral  relations 
of  the  l:imily  i)ri'H»'r\-ed  ?  Arc  the  relative  dalles  and  lahnurs  iif  the  luinter  and  l)ifl 
wife,  ei|'ial'y  or  uue(iually  divided  '    Who  hiiilds  tlii>  lodt^e,  and  iiow  is  it  ('(instructed? 


Tiii;i;i:  is  ,i  vory  stiikinn-  ao-n-c^mcnt.  in  the  cnnilition,  rflativp  duties 
anil  otili'jfatidiis,  uf  tlii>  lii'liaii  iiimily.  aiiK^iiir  all  tile  tiilns  of  whom  I 
liave  iiiiy  pcrsoinl  know  led  ■.;■(•.  i:i  Nniili  Aincii'i.  Climate  and  position, 
tile  aliiiiidaiiiM'  or  want  of  tic  incins  (il  Mil.sistciKN'  :ni<I  olluji'  accidental 
canst'S,  li.ivt'  created  jfiadatioiis  id'coii  lition  in  liic  \aiioii.s  trihcs,  some  of 
whom  excel  others  in  expcrtness,  in  liiintm^-  and  war.  and  other  aits,  l)nt 
thp>e  circnmslancos  have  done  little  to  alter  the  lifeneiiil  ciiaracteiistics,  or  to 
ahi'idofe  or  eidarfje  the  oriirinal  liuhts  and  clainis  of  eacli  inmate  of  the 
lodge.  The  trilies  who  cultivated  maize  in  the  rich  snl)-vall!es  and  plains 
of  the  ()liio  and  Mis.si.»sippi,  had  fuller  means  of  hoih  piiysical  and  iriental 
dcveloptnent,  than  lho.*(>  who  were,  and  still  are.  oliliired  to  pick  a  scanty 
subsistence,  anion','-  the  frigid,  and  half  marine  regions  in  the  latitndi^s 
north  of  the  irifat  lalus.  'I'here  are  some  peculiar  traits  of  manners,  in 
the  prairietiihes,  west  of  [hv  Mississi]i[)i,  who  pursue  the  bison  on  horse 
back,  and  rely  for  their  subsistence  (rreatly,  on  its  flesh,  and  the  sale  of  its 
skin.  The  well  fed  Muscogee,  Cherokee,  or  Choctaw,  who  lived  in  tho 
sunny  vallies  of  upper  Georgia,  Alabama,  and  'J'ennessee,  the  robust 
Osage,  revelling  in  the  abundance  of  corn  and  wild  meat,  south  of  the 

71 


rKUHONAL    INCiniJNTS    AND    I.-MI'IIKSSIONS. 


Missouri,  an<l  tlic  Icmh  iiml  riinil  .M(Mi(;>i;Tii,.s,  IMii^K-cpgo,  iiml  Kniistcno, 
wlio  push  their  ciinoiH  tliroiigh  wiitiis  clidlii.'  I  with  jKjii.itic  wcfds,  iind 
wild  rice,  prcscMit  very  ditli'ient  pictiin.'S  of  liomc  mid  cuinfort,  within  thoir 
lodge  doors.  Uiit  tlu'y  rcidly  j)riM  nt  the  same  idea,  liie  same  sentiments, 
and  tlic  sanio  round  of  diitii'."  and  oliligations,  of  Hither  and  mother,  bitter 
and  lacither,  wife  and  liu.-hiind.  Tiie  original  type  of  the  linman  family 
among  tlioni,  is  well  preserved,  bettor,  indeed,  than  was  to  have  liein  ex- 
pected in  a  state  of  barbari>m,  and  annmg  liranohes  of  the  race  who  liavo 
been  so  long  separatrd,  and  sulijei.'ted  to  such  severe  vicissitudes.  It 
Avould  be  iiseles.s,  in  this  view,  to  draw  a  parallel  between  the  relitive  con- 
dition of  the  mend)ers  of  a  family,  within,  and  without  the  pale  of  civiliza- 
tion. Nothing  of  tlie  kind  coidd  be  done,  withont  showing  up  pictures 
of  want  in  the  hunter-life  which  are  wholly  unknown  in  the  agricultural 
slate.  It  cannot  perhaps,  in  fair  justice,  be  said  that  the  tie  of  consan- 
guinity, in  the  man  of  the  woods,  is  stronger,  than  in  civilized  life.  But 
It  is  in  accordance  with  all  obs-Mvation  to  say,  that  it  is  very  strong,  that 
its  impulses  beat  with  marked  force,  and  arc  more  free  from  the  inter- 
twined ligaments  of  interest,  which  often  weakens  the  tie  of  relationship  in 
refined  and  aflluent  society. 

The  true  idea  of  matrimony,  in  Indian  life,  is  also  well  set  forth  and 
acknowledged,  although  it  lias  come  down  through  ages  of  plunder  and 
wandering,  degiadcd  in  its  condition,  slicrn  of  its  ju>t  ceremonies,  and 
weakened  in  its  sacred  character.  I  have  observed  that  polygamy,  among 
the  northern  tribes,  is  ehiefly  to  be  found,  among  bands  who  are  favour- 
ably located,  and  have  the  best  means  of  subsistence.  But  even  here  it  is 
not  reputable  ;  it  may  often  increase  a  man's  influence  in  the  tribe  or  nation, 
but  there  are  always  persons  in  the  wildest  forests,  who  do  not  think  the 
practice  right  or  rejiutable.  In  the  worst  state  of  Indian  society,  tlu  re  are 
jjways  some  glimmerings  of  truth.  If  the  conscience  of  the  Red  man 
may  be  compared  to  a  lamp,  it  may  bo  said  to  have  rather  sunk  low  into  its 
socket,  than  actually  to  have  expired.  7'he  relation  between  Inisband 
and  wife,  in  the  forest,  are  formed  under  circumstances,  which  are  geno 
rally  uniform.  Various  incidents,  or  motives  determine  a  union.  Some- 
times it  is  brought  about  by  the  intervention  of  friends  ;  sometimes  from 
a  sudden  imjiulse  of  admiration  ;  sometimes  with,  and  sometimes  against 
the  wishes  of  the  graver  and  more  ji'iidont  relatives  of  the  parties. 
Where  the  husband  is  accejitable,  and  has  not  before  been  married, 
which  covers  the  majority  of  cases,  he  comes  to  live  for  a  while  after  mar- 
riage, in  the  lodge  of  his  mother-in-law  ;  and  this  relation  generally  lasts 
until  the  increase  of  children,  or  other  circumstances  determine  his  tetiiiiir 
up  a  lodge  for  iiiinself.  Presents  arc  still  a  ready  way  for  a  young  hun- 
ter to  render  himself  acceptable  in  a  lodge.  There  are  some  instances, 
where  considerable  ceremony,  and  the  invitation  of  fi lends,  have  attended 
the  first  reception  of  the  bridegroom,  at  the  lodge  ;  but  these  arc  in  most 


'  , 


PERSONAL  INCIDENTS  AMD  IMrUKSSIONS. 


78 


cnsos,  what  wu  slmiilil  dcnoniinatc  matches  of  stntr,  or  expediency,  in 
wiiicli  the  hiavery,  ui  uiIilt  jiulilic  suivicis  of  a  ohicl'  or  Itailir,  lias  in- 
cliiiL'd  his  vilhige  to  thiiiii,  that  his  luprits  dfservo  thi:  rtnvaid  of  u  wife, 
Litnu'iaily,  the  act'cj)taiico  of  tho  vi:sil(jr  by  the  party  most  iiitereslf(I,  and 
lier  iiiolhcr  and  fither,  and  tlii'ii'  expressed,  or  tacit  consent,  is  tiie  only 
preliniinaiy,  and  this  i^^  doiio  in  a  private  way.  'I'hi.'  only  ceremonial 
observance,  of  uhich  I  have  ever  lieard,  is  llie  assigning  of  wiiat  is  called 
un  ahliinos,  or  permam-nt  lodye  seat,  to  tiie  bridegioom.  When  this  had 
been  cbnie,  by  tho  mother  or  mistress  of  liie  lod;,'e,  who  go\(  rns  iheso 
things,  he  is  received,  and  innceKnth  installeil  as  u  constituent  member  of 
the  lodge  and  family.  The  simple  rule  is,  that  he  who  has  u  right  to  sit 
by  the  bride,  is  her  linsbaiid. 

The  lodge  itself,  with  all  its  arrangements,  is  the  piecinct  of  the  rulo 
and  government  of  the  wife.  She  assigns  to  each  member,  bis  or  licr  or- 
dinary place  to  sleep  and  put  their  olFecls.  These  placca  are  permanent, 
and  only  changed  at  her  will,  as  when  there  is  a  guest  liy  day  or  night. 
In  a  space  so  small  as  a  lodge  tliis  system  preserves  order,  and  being  at  all 
linres  under  her  own  eye,  is  enforced  by  personal  supervision.  The  hus- 
band has  no  voice  in  this  matter,  and  I  have  never  heard  of  an  instance  in 
wiiich  he  would  so  far  deviate  from  his  position,  as  to  interfere  in  these 
minor  particulars.     The  lodge  is  her  precinct,  the  forest  his. 

Tiicre  is  no  law,  nor  force,  to  prevent  an  Indian  from  decreeing  his 
own  divorce,  that  is  to  say,  leaving  one  wife  and  taking  another  whenever 
he  sees  causa.  Yet  it  oftea  occurs  that  there  is  some  plausible  pretext  for 
such  a  seep,  such  as  if  true,  would  form  some  justification  of  the  measure. 
Tho  best  protection  to  married  females  arises  from  the  ties  of  children, 
wliich  by  bringing  into  play  the  strong  natural  afll'ctions  of  tiie  heart,  and 
ajipeals  at  once  to  that  principle  in  man's  original  organization,  which  is 
the  strongest.  Tho  average  number  of  children  borne  by  the  women,  and 
which  reach  the  adult  period  is  small,  and  will  scarcely  exceed  two.  On 
the  pay  rolls  it  did  not  exceed  this.  Much  of  this  extraordinary  resuh  is 
owing  to  their  erratic  mode  of  life,  and  their  cramped  means  of  subsis- 
tence. Another  cause  is  to  be  found  in  the  accidents  and  exposure  to 
which  young  children  are  liable,  but  still  more  to  their  shocking  ignorance 
of  medicine.  I  oncirknew  a  child  at  three  years  of  age  to  be  killed  by 
an  attempt  to  restore  a  deranged  state  of  the  bowels,  by  a  strong  overdose 
of  an  astringent  tincture  of  hemlock  bark  administered  by  her  father. 
This  man,  who  was  called  Attack,  had  strong  natural  afTections,  but  he 
was  very  ignorant  even  in  the  eyes  of  the  Indian  race,  being  one  of  that 
people  living  N.  E.  of  lalce  Superior,  who  are  called  variously  Oens  de 
Terres,  Mountaine(,'rs,  and  Muskeegoes.  Wherever  the  laws  of  reproduc- 
tion are  relieved  from  these  depressing  cu'cumstances,  the  number  of  chil- 
dren is  seen  to  be  increased. 

The  chief  laba-Waddick,  who  lived  on  a  small  bay  at  the  foot  0/  lake 


74 


PKUSONAL  INCIDKNTS  AND  IMPRESSIONS. 


i 


Superior,  aiul  Iirxd  .ibiimlaucc  d  means  of  subsistence,  lind  fourteen  chil- 
dren by  one  wife.  Lie  was  an  excellent  hunter,  and  of  liabits  for  the 
most  purl  of  liis  life,  strictly  t''inperatu;  he  had  married  young,  and  had 
always  had  iIk;  means  of  providing  his  fimily  with  adequate  clothing  and 
food.  Not  one  of  tiiese  children  died  in  infancy.  He  lived  himself  to  he 
old,  and  died  rather  fioni  a  complaint  induced  by  constitutional  structure, 
than  from  a  natnnil  decay  of  vital  powiM". 

'J'lie  diitits  and  labouis  of  Indian  life,  are  believed  to  be  equally,  and 
Hot,  as  has  been  gent  rally  thought,  unequally  divided  between  the  male 
and  female.  This  division  is  also  the  most  natural  possible,  and  such  as 
mu.«t  ever  result  from  the  condition  of  man,  as  a  mere  hunter.  It  is  the 
duty  of  the  male  to  provide  food,  and  of  the  female  to  prepare  it.  This 
arrangement  c.-.r:i"«  with  it  to  the  share  of  the  male,  all  that  r<>lates  to  ex- 
ternal concerns,  and  all  that  pertains  to  the  internal  to  the  care  of  the  female 
as  completely  as  i,-- done  in  civilii;ed  life.  To  the  man  belongs  not  only  the 
bu?'  less  of  hunting,  for  this  is  an  employment  and  not  a  pas/imc,  but  the 
care  of  the  tenitory,  and  keeping  ofl"  intruders  and  enemies,  and  the  pre- 
paration of  canoes  for  travel,  and  of  arms  and  implements  of  war.  The 
duties  of  cooking  and  dressing  meats  and  fowl,  and  whateve'"  else  the 
chase  affords,  carries  on  the  other  hand,  to  the  share  of  the  hunter's  wife, 
ihu  eiiiire  care  and  controul  of  the  loilge,  with  its  structure  and  removal, 
and  the  keeping  it  in  order,  with  all  its  utensils  raid  apparatus.  A  good 
and  frui^al  hunter's  wife,  makes  all  this  a  point  of  ambitious  interest,  and 
talvcs  a  ])ride  in  keeping  it  neat  and  proper  for  the  receptiori  of  her  hus- 
band's guests.  She  sweeps  the  earth  clean  around  the  fire,  with  a  broom 
of  braiiches  of  the  cedar  constructed  for  this  pur|io?e.  This  lodge  it  is  to 
be  remembered,  is  made  not  of  beams  atid  posts,  and  heavy  carpentry, 
but  out  of  thin  poles,  such  as  a  child  can  lift,  set  in  the  ground  in  a  circle, 
bent  over  and  tied  at  the  top,  and  sheathed  with  long  sheets  of  the  white  birch 
bark.  A  rim  of  cedar  wood  at  the  bottom,  assimilates  these  birch  bark 
sliei  ts  to  the  roller  of  a  map,  to  which  in  stormy  weather  a  stone  is  at- 
tached to  hold  it  firm.  'J'liis  stick  has  also  the  precise  use  of  a  map- 
roller,  for  when  the  lodge  is  to  be  removed,  the  bark  is  rolled  on  it,  and 
in  this  shape  carried  to  the  canoe,  to  be  set  up  elsewhere.  The  circle 
of  sticl.s  or  fiame,  is  always  left  .'-tanding,  as  it  would  be  useless  to  en- 
cumber the  canoe  with  what  can  easily  be  had  at  any  position  in  a  forest 
country. 

Such  at  least  is  the  hunting  lodge,  and  indeed,  the  lodge  generally 
used  by  t!ie  tribes  north  of  lattitnde  42"^.  It  is,  in  its  figure,  a  half  globe, 
and  by  its  lightness  and  wicker-like  structure,  may  be  said  to  resemble  an 
inverted  bird's  nest.  The  whole  amount  of  the  transportable  materials  of 
it,  is  often  comprehended  in  some  half  a  dozt^n  good  rolls  of  bark,  and  as 
many  of  ru.'^h  mats  which  the  merest  girl  can  easily  lift.  The  mats  which 
are  the  substitute  for  floor  cloth?,  and  also  the  under  stratum  of  the  sleep- 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    I.MPIl  KSiilDNS. 


lO 


in"  coiioli,  !iro    iniulc  out  of  ilu."  cominon  Ln-iistrit:  or  hullnisli,  or  the 
flag,  cut  ;it  lliu  proju'r   season,  ;ui  I  wova   iu   a  \\Mr|)  of  liin'    hemp   not 


tlircail,  such  as  is  fiiniishcil   hy  tr 


ulcis  m 


tiio  [iii'scnt  stale  of  tlio  In 


diaii 


trade. 


ous  colours. 


lortion  u 


f  tl 


lis  So 


it  V 


fcrit;il)le  wool.  IS  (Ivi'fl.  and  woven  in  van- 


I. 


tl 


iOdiTi'S  tlius   const.  IK' 


u-A 


arii  tu    1)1'  slill   alaiiidanlly  sei 


itK 


Ml, 


by  llie  suiimier  visitor,  ill  the  wpprr  Liivcs,  at  all  tin-  principal  points,  tu 
wliicli  the  liiiiiiiis  resort,  diiriii!,''  the  height  of  siiinnii.'r.  Such  are  the 
posts  of  Michiliiii  iclviiiac,  Sank  Ste.  Marie,  aii«l  Cireeii  Hay.  At  Micliiii- 
inackiiiac,  where  it  is  now  diliienlt  to  get  fresh  lodge  poles,  without  going 
some  distance,  or  trespassing  on  private  rights,  the  natives  wh,,  resort  thi- 
ther, of  lale  Y<-nirs,  have  aiKipted  an  ingenious  change,  by  which  two  ob- 
jects are  acconiplisiifd  at  the  same  lime,  and  the  labour  of  the  females  di.s- 
pensed  with  in  getting  new  poles.  It  is  l;nowii,  that  the  bark  canoe,  be- 
ill:,'-  itsi'lf  but  an  enlarged  speciis  of  wicker  work,  has  not  sulficien-t 
streni;th  to  be  freiirhted,  without  previously  having  a  number  of  poles  laid 
longitudinallN',  in  the  bottom,  as  a  kind  of  veitebral  support.  These  poles 
on  landing  upon  the  gra\elly  shores  of  that  ioland,  are  set  up,  or  slacked 
to  use  a  military  Jihrase,  that  is  tying  the  tops  together  and  then  drawing 
out  the  other  ends  so  as  to  describe  a  circle,  and  thus  making  a  perfect 
cone.  The  bark  tapestry  is  hung  around  these  poles  very  much  as  it 
would  be  around  the  globular  close  lodges  ;  and  by  this  arrangement,  an 
Indian  lodge  is  raised,  and  ready  for  occupation,  in  as  ni;>ny  minutes, 
after  landing,  as  the  most  e.vpert  soldiers  could  pitch  a  tent  in. 

Before  we  can  allirm  that  the  labour  of  preparing  these  barks  and  mats 
and  setting  ii|i,  and  taking  down,  the  loilge,  is  disproportionately  grant, 
or  heavy  on  the  females,  it  will  be  necessary  to  inquire  into  other  particu- 
lars, both  on  the  side  of  the  male  and  female.  Much  of  the  time  of  an  In- 
dian female,  is  passed  in  idleness.  This  is  true  not  only  of  a  part  of  every 
day,  but  is  emphatically  so,  of  certain  seasons  oil  he  year.  She  has  not 
like  the  farmer's  wile,  her  cows  to  milk,  her  butter  and  cheese  to  make, 
and  her  ila.\  to  spin  She  has  not  to  wash  and  comb  and  prepare  her 
children  every  morning,  to  go  to  school.  She  has  no  extensive  or  fine 
wardrobe  to  lake  care  of  She  has  no  books  to  read.  She  sets  little  value 
on  time,  which  is  characteristic  of  all  the  race.  What  she  does,  is  either 
very  plain  sewing,  or  some  very  pains  taking  ornamental  thing.  When 
the  sheathing  and  flooring  of  the  lodges  are  once  made,  they  arc 
jiermanent  pieces  of  property,  and  do  not  re(piire  frequent  renewal. 
When  a  skin  has  been  dressed,  and  a  garment  made  of  it,  it  is  w"orn, 
till  it  is  worn  out.  Frequent  ablution  and  change  of  dress,  are  eminently 
the  traits  of  high  civilization,  and  not  of  the  hunter's  lodge.  The 
articles  which  enter  into  the  mysteries  of  the  laundry,  add  but  little  to 
llic  cares  oi"  a  forest  housekeeper.  W^itli  every  industrial  efTort,  and 
such  is,  somtimes  the  case,  there  is  much  unoccupied  time,  while  her  hus- 
band is  compelled  by  their  necessities,  to  traverse  large  tracts,  and  endure 


,»nipHJll  .••"   S»«i 


w 


76 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


great  fatigues,  in  all  weathers  iu  quest  of  food.  He  must  defend  his  hunt- 
ing grounds,  in  peace  and  war,  and  has  his  life  daily  in  liis  hands- 
Long  absences  arc  often  necessary,  on  these  accounts.  It  is  at  such  times, 
during  the  open  season,  that  the  Indian  female  exerts  her  industry.  In 
the  fall  season,  she  takes  her  children  in  a  canoe,  or  if  she  have  none,  in- 
vites a  female  companion  to  go  with  her,  along  the  streams,  to  cut  tlie 
rush,  to  he  manufactured  into  mats,  at  her  leisure,  in  the  winter.  It  is 
also  a  part  of  her  duty,  at  all  seasons,  to  provide  fuel  for  the  lodge  fire, 
which  she  is  careful  to  do,  that  she  may  suitably  receive  her  husband,  on 
his  return  from  the  chase,  and  have  the  means  of  drying  his  wet  mocca- 
sins, and  a  cheerful  spot,  where  he  may  light  his  pipe,  and  regain  liis  mental 
equilibrium,  while  she  prepares  his  meals.  The  very  idea  of  a  female's 
choj)ping  wood,  is  to  some  liorrifTic.  But  it  is  (juite  true  that  the  Indian 
female  does  chop  wood,  or  at  le:ist,  exert  aiuundiie  labour,  in  procuring 
this  necessary  article  of  tiie  household.  In  speaking  of  the  female,  we,  at 
once,  rush  to  the  poetic  idea  of  the  refinement  of  lady  like  gentleness,  and 
delicacy.  Not  only  does  the  nature  of  savage  life  and  the  hardiness  of 
muscle  created  by  centuries  of  forest  vicissitude,  give  the  hunter's  wife, 
but  a  slender  clainr  on  this  particular  shade  of  character,  but  the  kind  of 
labour  implied,  is  very  dilTercnt  from  the  notion  civilized  men  have  of 
"wood  chopping."  The  emigrant  swings  a  heavy  axe  of  six  pounds 
weight,  incessantly,  day  i/i,  and  day  oul,  against  inmunse  trees,  in  the 
heaviest  forest,  until  he  has  ojiened  the  land  to  tiie  rays  of  the  sun,  and 
prepared  an  amount  of  cyclupean  labours  for  the  power  of  fire,  and  the 
ox.  The  hunter  clears  no  forests,  the  limits  of  wiiich  on  the  contrary,  he 
carefully  cherishes  for  his  deer  to  range  in.  lie  seats  lumself  duwn,  with 
his  lodge,  in  the  borders  of  natural  glades,  or  meadows,  to  plant  his  few 
liills  of  maize.  He  had  no  metallic  axe,  capable  of  cutting  down  a  tree, 
before  1492,  and  he  has  never  learned  to  wield  a  heavy  axe  up  to  1844. 
His  wife,  always  made  her  lodge  fires  by  gathering  sticks,  and  she  does 
so  still.  She  takes  a  hatchet  of  one  or  two  pounds  weight,  and  after 
collecting  dry  limbs  in  the  forest,  she  breaks  them  into  lengths  of  about 
18  inches,  and  ties  them  in  bundles,  or  faggots,  and  carries  them,  at  her 
leisure,  to  her  lodge.  Small  as  these  sticks  are,  in  their  length  ami  diame- 
ter, but  few  are  required  to  boil  her  pot.  The  lodge,  being  of  small  cir 
cumference,  but  little  heat  is  required  to  warm  the  air,  and  by  susjxnding 
the  pot  by  a  string  from  above,  over  a  small  blaze,  the  olject  is  attained, 
without  that  extraordinary  expenditure  of  wood,  which,  to  the  pcrfi  ct 
amazement  of  the  Indian,  characterizes  the  emigrant's  roaring  fire  of  logs. 
The  few  fields  which  the  Indians  hiive  cleared  and  prepared  for  corn  fields, 
in  northern  liitiludes,  are  generality  to  be  traccsd  to  some  adventitious  opening, 
and  have  been  enlarged  very  slouly.  Hince,  1  have  observed,  that  when 
they  have  come  to  be  appraised,  to  fix  their  value  as  improvements  upon 
the  land,  under  treaty  provisions,  that  the  amount  thereof  may  be  paid  the 


PERSONAL    INCIDENTS    AND    IMPRESSIONS. 


77 


owner. 


s  hunt- 
hands- 
1  times, 
,y.     In 
one,  in- 
cut the 
.     It  is 
ge  fire, 
land,  on 
mocca- 
s  mental 
female's 
e  Indian 
rocuring 
c,  we,  at 
less,  and 
liness  of 
jr's  wife, 

kind  of 
liave  of 
X  pounds 
>s,  in  the 
sun, and 
},  and  the 
itravy,  he 
own,  with 
It  his  few 
\xn  a  tree, 

to  1844. 

she  does 

and  after 
;  of  ahotit 
L m,  at  her 
aid  diamc- 

sniall  cir 
nspcnding 
iL-  allaineil, 
the  perfict 
ire  of  lojis. 
coin  fields, 
iis  opening, 
,  tlmt  when 
nents  upon 
1)0  paid  the 


they  h;i 


iforiniy  set  a  high 


mgs,  and  soineUme^  reguirao 


nato  upon  these  ancient  clear- 
nj  would  tliink,  in  the  inverse 
proportion  of  these  limits.  As  if,  iiide 'd,  there  won;  some  merit,  in  having 
but  iialf  an  acre  ofclcirel  ground,  where,  it  might  bn  supposed,  the  owner 
would  have  cultivated  ten  acres.  And  this  hall' acre,  is  to  be  regarded  as 
the  industrial  sum  of  the  agricuitural  labours  of  all  ages  and  sexe.s,  during 
perhaps,  ten  generations.  Could  the  whole  of  this  physical  effort,  there- 
fore, be  traced  to  female  hands,  which  is  doubtful,  for  the  old  men  and 
boys,  will  often  do  something,  it  would  not  bo  a  very  severe  imposition. 
There  is  at  least,  a  good  deal,  it  is  believed,  in  this  view  of  the  domestic 
condition  of  the  women  to  mitigite  the  severity  of  judgment,  with  which 
the  proud  and  labourdiatiug  hunter,  h:is  sometimes  been  visited.  He  lias, 
in  our  view,  tlie  most  important  pirt  of  the  relative  duties  of  Indian  life, 
to  sustain.  In  the  lodge  he  is  a  miM,  considerate  man,  of  the  non-interfering 
and  non-scolding  species.  He  may  indeed,  be  looked  upon,  rather  as  the 
guest  of  his  wife,  than  what  he,  is  often  represented  to  be,  her  tyrant,  and 
he  is  often  only  known  as  the  lo"d  of  the  Iolg.5,  by  the  attention  and  res- 
pect which  fhe  sh  )ws  to  him.  He  is  a  man  of  few  words.  If  her  temper 
is  ruffled,  he  smiles.  If  h*  is  displeased,  he  walks  away.  It  is  a  pro- 
vince in  which  his  actions  acknowledge  her  right  to  rule ;  and  it  is  one, 
in  which  his  pride  and  manliness  have  exalted  him  above  the  folly  of  al- 
tercation. 


THE  ISIAMTO  THEE. 


ii" 


There  it^  a  [iiominciit  hill  in  the  vii'inity  of  S.mlt  Ste.  Marie,  at  iho  out- 
let of  like  Sii|)i  ritii'.  called  hy  tlie  French  J.d  liutti' des  Terres.  An  In- 
dian footpath  foiiiKily  connected  this  hi!l  with  tho  old  French  setllenunt 
at  those  fall^•,  IVoni  which  it  i:<  dii-tanl  Jil'oul  a  mile.  In  the  inteiinediato 
space,  near  tije  path,  there  formerly  stood  a  tree,  a  large  mountain  asii, 
Ironi  wliicii.  Indian  tralition  says,  there  issued  a  sound,  resembling  that 
produc(;d  by  liieir  own  war-drums,  iluring  one  of  the  most  calm  and 
cloudless  days,  This  occurred  long  before  the  French  appeared  in  the 
country.  It  was  consequently  regarded  as  the  local  residence  of  a  sjiirit, 
Mild  ileemed  sacred. 

From  that  tiiiie  they  began  to  deposit  at  its  foot,  an  oliering  of  small 
green  twigs  and  boughs,  whenever  tiiey  j)assed  the  path,  so  that,  in  pro- 
cess of  time,  a  high  pile  of  these  otTerings  of  the  forest  was  accumulated. 
It  seeme.l  as  if,  by  tlii>  proceiluie,  the  other  trees  iiad  each  made  an  oflin'- 
ing  to  this  tiee.  At  length  the  tree  blew  duwn,  during  a  violeait  storm, 
and  has  since  entiredv^  dtciyed.  lait  the  sput  was  lecollected  and  the  ofiijr- 
ings  kept  Hj),  and  they  would  haw  been  continued  to  the  present  hour, 
Juid  not  an  accidental  ciicumstance  put  a  stop  to  it. 

In  the  month  of.Tuly  18",;;2,  tiie  govcnnnent  sent  a  military  furce  to  take 
post,  at  that  ancient  point  of  Frencii  si'itlcment,  at  the  foot  of  the  falls,  and 
one  of  the  (irst  acts  ef  the  commanding  oflicer  was  to  order  out  a  fatigue 
party  to  cut  a  wa'jon  roail  tiom  ihc  .-^rli-ctcd  site  of  the  post  to  the  hill.  This 
road  was  directed  to  Ijl'  cut  sixty  left  wide,  and  it  jiassed  (j\ta  the  site  of 
the  tree.  'J'he  ))ile  (/f  orterings  was  thus  removed,  without  the  men's 
knowing  "hat  it  i-vcr  had  had  a  superstitious  origin  ;  and  thus  riir;  practice 
itself  came  to  an  end.  I  had  landed  with  tiie  troops,  and  been  at  the  pla  ^ 
but  nine  days,  in  the  exercise  of  my  appropriate  iluties  as  an  Agent  on  the 
part  of  the  goveinment  to  the  tiibe.  when  ;his  trait  of  character  was  men- 
tioned to  me.  and  I  wa.s  thus  mad.'  p-TSfinally  acquainted  with  the  localily, 
the  cutting  of  the  roa  I.  and  the  final  extinction  of  the  rite. 

Our  Indians  are  lather  prone  to  regard  the  conrung  of  the  whit^"  man, 
as  fulfilling  certain  (discure  prophecies  of  their  own  priests;  and  that  'hey 
are,  at  l)est,  li.nbingers  of  evil  to  tlnin  ;  and  with  tlnir  usual  belief  in 
fatabty,  they  tacitly  drop  such  rites  as  the  foregoing.  They  can  excuse 
themselves  to  their  consciences  in  such  cases,  in  reliiupjishing  the  wor- 
ship of  a  local  manito,  by  saying:  it  is  the  tread  of  the  white  man  that 
has  desecrated  the  ground. 


78 


TALES   OF  A  WIGAYAM. 


T1II<.   AMIITE   SrOXE  CAXOE. 


ill 


;  to  tillie 

ill?,  and 
fatigue 
fins 
site  of 
tncn's 
iraclice 
t-  pla  " 
on  the 
as  ir.tMi- 
ocalilV) 

man, 
hat  ■l.vy 
icliff  ill 

fXi'llSO 

\v;  wor- 
nati  that 


TriKRK  was  once  a  verv  bpautifiil  yniiiiLf  girl,  who  died  suddenly  on  the 
day  shtj  was  to  have  liecn  married  to  a  luiiidsonic  young  man.  lie  was 
also  brave,  but  bia  heart  was  not  proof  against  this  loss.  From  the 
hour  she  was  buried,  there  was  no  more  joy  or  pi.vice  for  him.  lie  wont 
often  to  visit  the  spot  where  the  women  had  buried  her,  and  sat  nnising 
there,  when,  it  was  thought,  by  some  of  his  friends,  he  would  have  done 
better  to  try  to  amuse  bimsilf  in  the  chase,  or  by  diverting  his  thoughts  in 
the  war-patli.  Bui  war  and  iiunting  had  both  loi^t  their  eharnis  fur  him. 
His  heart  was  already  dead  within  liiin.  He  puslied  aside  buth  his 
war-club  and  his  bow  and  arrows. 

He  had  lieard  the  old  people  say.  that  there  was  a  path,  that  led  to  the 
land  of  souls,  and  he  determined  to  follow  it.  He  accordingly  set  out, 
one  morning,  after  having  completiH]  his  prepai'ations  for  the  journey. 
At  fiist  lie  hardly  knew  which  way  to  go.  He  was  only  guided  by  the 
tradition  that  he  inn>t  go  south.  For  a  ^\  hil(\  he  could  see  no  change  in 
the  face  of  the  country.  Forest.*,  and  iiills.  r'.nd  vallies,  and  streams  had 
the  same  looks,  which  they  wore  in  his  n;'iivr  place.  There  was  snow 
on  tb."  ground,  when  he  set  out.  and  it  was  sometimes  seen  to  be  piled 
and  malted  on  t!u>  tiiicK-  trees  and  Ijushes.  At  length,  it  began  to  dimin- 
ish, and  finally  disappeared.  Tlie  forest  assumed  a  more  cheerful  ap- 
pearance, ilio  leaves  put  forth  their  buds,  and  bi'fore  he  was  awaic  of 
the  completeness  of  the  ch.mge.  he  found  himself  surrotnided  by  spring. 
He  had  left  behind  bini  the  land  of  snow  and  ice.  Tlie  air  became 
mild,  the  dark  clouds  of  winter  had  rolled  away  from  the  sky;  a  pure 
field  of  blue  was  above  him,  and  as  ho  went  he  saw  flowers  liesidc  his 
path,  and  heard  the  songs  of  birds.  By  these  signs  he  knew  that  he  was 
p)ing  the  right  way,  for  they  airreed  with  t!ie  traditions  of  his  tribe.  At 
length  he  .'pi(.'(l  a  pith.  It  led  him  throuiih  a  grove,  then  up  a  long  and 
elevated  ridge,  on  the  very  top  of  which  he  came  to  a  lodge.  At  the 
door  stood  an  old  man,  with  white  hair,  whose  eyes,  though  deeply  sunk, 
had  a   fiery  brilii.uicy.     He   bad  a   huiir  robe  of  skins  thrown  loosely 

around  his  shoulders,  and  a  stall"  in  his  hands. 

79 


I 


^  * 


80 


THE    WHITE    STONE    CANOE. 


The  yonng  Chippowaynn  began  to  tell  his  stovy  ;  Imt  the  venerable  chief 
arrested  him,  before  he  had  proceeded  to  speak  ten  words.  I  iiave  expected 
you,  he  replied,  and  had  just  risen  to  bid  you  welcome  to  my  abode.  She, 
whom  you  seek,  passed  here  but  a  few  days  since,  and  being  fatigued  with 
her  journey,  rested  herself  here.  Enter  my  lodge  and  be  seated,  and  I 
will  then  satisfy  your  enquiries,  and  give  you  directions  for  your  journey 
from  this  point.  Having  done  this,  they  both  issued  forth  to  the  lodge  door. 
"You  see  yonder  gulf,  said  he,  and  the  wide  stretching  blue  plains  be 
yond.  It  is  the  land  of  souls.  You  stand  upon  its  borders,  and  niy  lodge 
is  the  gate  of  entrance.  But  you  cannot  take  your  body  aloug.  Leave  it 
here  with  your  bow  and  arrows,  your  bimdle  and  your  dog.  You  will 
find  them  safe  on  your  return."  So  saying,  he  re-f-t-'orod  the  lodge,  and 
the  freed  traveller  bounded  forward,  as  if  his  feet  had  suddenly  been  endow- 
ed with  the  power  of  wings.  But  all  things  retained  their  natural  i'oiours 
and  shapes.  The  woods  and  leaves,  and  streams  and  lakcs^,  were  only 
more  bright  and  comely  than  he  had  ever  witnessed.  Annuals  bounded 
across  his  path,  with  a  freedom  ^nd  a  contidcnce  nliich  seemed  to  tell 
him,  there  was  no  blood  shed  here.  Birds  of  beaii'.iful  plumage  inhabit- 
ed the  groves,  and  sported  in  tlie  waters.  'J'licre  was  but  one  thing,  in 
which  he  saw  a  very  unusual  effect.  He  noticed  that  his  passage  was 
not  stopped  by  trees  or  other  objects.  H.'^  appeared  to  walk  directly 
through  them.  They  were,  in  fact,  but  the  souls  or  shadows  of  material 
trees.  He  became  sensible  that  he  was  in  a  land  of  shadows.  When 
he  had  travelled  half  a  day's  journej,  through  a  country  which  was  con- 
tinually becoming  more  attractive,  he  came  to  the  banks  of  a  broad  lake, 
in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  large  and  beautiful  island.  He  found  a 
canoe  of  shining  white  stone,  tied  to  the  shore.  He  was  now  sure  that 
he  had  rome  the  right  path,  for  the  aged  man  had  told  him  of  this.  There 
were  also  shinmg  paddles.  He  immediately  entered  the  canoe,  and  took 
the  paddles  in  his  hands,  when  to  his  joy  and  surprise,  on  turning  round, 
he  beheld  the  object  of  his  search  in  another  canoe,  exactly  its  counter- 
part in  every  thing.  She  had  exactly  imitated  his  motions,  and  they  were 
side  by  side.  They  it  on:.,  pushed  oat  from  shore  and  began  to  cross 
the  lake.  Its  wav  .s  seemed  to  be  rising  and  at  a  distance  looked  ready  to 
swallow  them  up;  hut  just  as  they  cni:.red  the  whitened  edge  of  them 
they  seemed  to  melr  away,  as  if  they  were  but  the  images  of  waves.  But 
no  sooner  was  one  wreath  of  foam  passed,  than  another,  more  threaten- 
'rg  still,  rose  up.  Thws  they  were  in  perpetual  fear;  and  what  added  to 
it,  was  the  clearness  of  the  water,  through  which  they  could  see  heaps  of 
bemgs  who  had  perished  before,  and  whose  bones  laid  strewed  on  the 
bottom  of  the  lake.  The  Master  of  Life  hud,  however,  decreed  to  let  them 
pass,  for  the  actions  of  neither  of  them  had  been  bad.  But  they  saw  many 
others  struggling  and  sinking  in  the  waves.  Old  men  and  young  men, 
males  and  females  of  all  ages  and  ranks,  were  there;  som<}  passed,  and 


i 


h 

•Hi 


THE   WHITE   STONE    CANOE. 


81 


some  sank.  It  was  o?ily  the  little  children  whose  canoes  seemed  to  meet 
no  waves.  At  length,  every  cliificulty  was  gone,  as  in  a  moment,  and 
they  both  leapt  out  on  the  hajjpy  island.  They  felt  that  the  very  air 
was  food.  It  £tr('n'.rth('iK'd  and  nourished  thetn.  They  wandered  to- 
(jetlier  over  the  blissful  fields,  where  every  thine,''  was  formed  to  please  the 
eye  and  the  eir.  There  were  im  tem|)ests — there  was  no  ice,  no  ciiilly 
winds — no  one  shivered  for  the  want  of  warm  eloth.es:  no  one  siitfered 
for  hnnirt-r — no  one  mourned  for  the  dead.  They  saw  no  graves.  'J'hey 
heard  of  no  wars.  There  was  no  hunting  of  animals;  for  the  air  itself 
was  their  food,  (iladly  would  the  young  warrior  have  remained  there 
forever,  but  he  was  obliged  to  go  back  for  his  body.  He  did  not  see 
the  Master  of  Life,  but  he  heard  his  voice  in  a  soft  breeze:  "C)o  back, 
said  this  voice,  to  the  land  from  whence  you  came.  Your  time  has  not 
yet  come.  The  duties  for  which  I  made  you,  and  which  you  are  to  per- 
form, arc  not  yet  finished.  Return  to  your  people,  and  accomplish 
the  duties  of  a  good  man.  You  w  ill  be  the  ruler  of  your  tribe  for  many 
days.  'I'he  rules  you  must  observe,  will  lie  told  you  by  my  messenger, 
who  keeps  the  gate.  When  he  surrenders  back  your  body,  he  will  tell 
you  whit  to  do.  Listen  to  him,  and  you  shall  afterwards  rejoin  the  spirit, 
which  you  must  now  leave  behind.  She  is  accented  and  will  be  ever 
here,  as  young  and  as  happy  as  she  was  when  I  first  called  her  from  the 
land  of  snows."  When  this  voice  ceased,  the  narrator  awoke.  It  was 
the  fmcy  work  of  a  dream,  and  he  was  still  in  the  bitter  land  of  snows, 
and  hunger  and  tears. 


THE 


LYNX   AND  THE  HARE. 


H 


A  FABLE  FROM  THK  OJIIUVA-.M.GOXQtiIN. 

A  i.vNX  almost  famished,  met  a  hare  one  day  in  the  woods,  in  the  winter 
Kf  ,ison,  but  the  hare  was  separated  from  its  enemy  by  a  rock,  upon  which 
It  stood.  The  lyn.v  began  to  Sj)eak  to  it  in  a  very  kind  manner.  "  Wa- 
bose !  Waliosc  '"  *  said  he,  "  come  here  my  little  white  one,  I  wish  to  talk 
to  you.",  '•  O  no,"  said  the  hare,  "  I  am  afraid  of  you,  and  my  mother 
told  me  never  to  go  and  talk  with  strangers."  ''  You  are  very  pretty," 
replied  the  lynx,  "  and  a  very  obedient  child  to  ynur  parents  ;  but  you  must 
know  tl\at  I  am  a  relative  of  yours  ;  I  wish  to  semi  some  word  to  your 
lodge  ;  come  down  and  see  me."  Thr  har(^  was  pleastvl  to  be  called  pretty, 
and  when  she  heard  that  it  was  a  relative,  she  jumped  down  from  the 
place  where  slie  stood,  and  immediately  the  lynx  pounced  upon  her  and 
tore  her  to  pieces. 


*  This  word  appcurs  to  be  a  dorivaliou  from  the  radi.x  WAwn,  white.    The  tenni- 
litition  ill  0  is  the  objective  sign.    The  term  is  made  diminutive  in  8. 


1^. 


THE  WORSHIP  OF  THE    SUN. 
AN  OnOWA  TRADITION. 


A  LONG  time  ago,  there  lived  an  aged  Odjibwa  and  his  wife,  on  the 
shores  of  Lake  Huron.  They  had  an  only  son,  a  very  beautiful  boy 
whose  name  was  0-na-wut-a-qut-o,  or  he  that  catches  the  clouds.  The 
family  were  of  the  totem  of  the  beaver.  The  parents  were  very  proud 
of  him,  and  thought  to  make  him  a  celebrated  man,  but  when  he  reached 
the  proper  age,  he  would  not  submit  to  the  We-koon-dc-win,  or  fast. 
When  this  time  arrived,  they  gave  him  charcoal,  instead  of  liis  breakfast, 
but  he  would  not  blacken  his  face.  If  they  denied  him  food,  he  would 
seek  for  birds'  eggs,  along  the  shore,  or  pick  up  the  heads  of  fish  that  had 
been  cast  away,  and  broil  them.  One  day,  they  took  away  violently  the 
food  he  iiad  thus  prepared,  and  cast  him  some  coals  in  place  of  it.  This 
act  brought  him  to  a  decision.  He  took  the  coals  and  blackened  his  face, 
and  went  out  of  the  lodge.  He  did  not  return,  but  slept  without;  and 
during  the  night,  he  had  a  dream.  He  dreamed  that  he  saw  a  very 
beautiful  female  come  down  from  the  clouds  and  stand  by  his  side.  "O- 
no-wut-a-qut-o,"  said  she,  "I  am  come  for  you — step  in  my  tracks."  The 
young  man  did  so,  and  presently  feh  himself  ascending  above  the  tops  of 
the  trees — he  mounted  up,  step  by  step,  into  the  air,  and  through  the 
clouds.  His  guide,  at  length,  passed  through  an  orifice,  and  he,  following 
her,  found  himself  standing  on  a  beautiful  plain. 

A  path  led  to  a  splendid  lodge.  He  followed  her  into  it.  It  was  large, 
and  divided  into  two  parts.  On  one  end  he  saw  bows  and  arrows,  clubs 
and  spears,  and  various  warlike  implements  tipped  w  it h  silver.  On  the 
other  end,  were  things  exclusively  belonging  to  females.  This  was  the 
home  of  his  fair  guide,  and  hi'  saw  that  she  had,  on  the  frame,  a  broad 
rich  boh,  of  many  colours,  which  she  was  weaving.  She  said  to  him: 
"My  brother  is  coming  and  I  mu.st  hide  you."  Putting  him  in  one  cor- 
ner, she  spread  the  belt  over  him.  Presently  the  brother  oame  in,  very 
richly  dressed,  and  shining  as  if  he  had  iiad  points  of  silver  all  over  him. 
He  took  down  from  the  wall  a  spleniiiil  pipe,  together  with  his  sack  of  a- 
padvoze-gun,  or  smoking  mixture.  When  he  had  finished  regaling  him- 
self in  this  way,  and  laid  his  pipe  aside,  he  said  to  his  sister:  '•Neniissa,' 
(\,hich  is,  my  elder  sister,)  "when  will  you  quit  these  practices?  Do  you 
forget  that  the  Greatest  of  the  Spirits  has  commanded  that  you  should  not 

82 


I 


al 

dl 
a] 


t!j 


Irk 
\vl 

ml 


The 
tops  of 
)(Th  the 
allowing 

•as  large, 
ws,  clubs 
On  the 
was  the 
a  broad 
to  hinT- 
n  one  cor- 
ic  in,  very 
over  him. 
sack  of  a- 
nling  him- 
Nemissa,' 
1    Do  you 
should  not 
82 


I 


THE    WORSHIP   OP   THE    SUN. 


83 


take  awav  the  chillren  from  below?  Perhaps  you  suppose  llint  you  have 
concealed  0-na-\vut  a-qut-o,  but  do  I  not  know  of  his  coming?  If  you 
would  not  ofTund  me,  send  him  back  immediately."  Hut  this  address  did 
rot  alter  her  purpose.  She  would  not  send  him  back.  Finding  that  she 
was  purposed  in  her  mind,  he  then  spoke  to  the  young  lad,  and  called  him 
from  his  hiding  place.  "Come  out  of  your  concealment,"  said  he,  "and 
walk  about  and  amuse  yourself  You  will  grow  hungry  if  you  remain 
there."  He  then  presented  him  a  bow  and  arrows,  and  a  pipe  of  red  stone, 
richly  ornamented.  This  was  taken  as  the  word  of  consent  to  his  mar- 
riage; so  the  two  were  considered  husband  and  wife  from  that  time 

0-no-wnt  a-rpU-o  found  every  thing  exceedingly  fair  and  beautiful  around 
him,  but  he  found  no  inhabitants  except  her  brother.  There  were  flowers 
on  the  plains.  There  were  bright  and  sparkling  streams.  There  were 
gr(!cn  vallies  and  pleasant  trees.  There  were  gay  birds  and  beautiful 
animals,  but  they  were  not  such  as  he  had  been  accustomed  to  see.  There 
was  also  day  and  night,  as  on  the  earth ;  but  he  observed  that  every  morn- 
ing the  brother  regularly  left  the  lodge,  and  remained  absent  all  day;  and 
every  evening  the  sister  departed,  though  it  was  commonly  but  for  a  part 
of  the  night. 

His  curiosity  was  aroused  to  solve  this  mystery.  He  obtained  the 
brother's  consent  to  accompany  him  in  one  of  his  daily  journies.  They 
travelled  over  a  smooth  plain,  without  boundaries,  until  0-no-wut-a-qut-o 
felt  the  gnawings  of  appetite,  and  asked  his  companion  if  there  were  no 
game.  "Patience!  my  brother,"  said  he,  "we  shall  soon  reach  the  spot 
where  I  cat  my  dinner,  and  you  will  then  see  how  I  am  provided."  After 
walliing  on  a  long  time,  they  came  to  a  place  which  was  spread  over  with 
fine  mats,  where  they  sat  down  to  refresh  themselves.  There  was,  at  this 
place,  a  hole  through  the  sky  ;  and  0-no-wut-a-qut-o,  looked  down,  at  the 
bidding  of  his  companion,  upon  the  earth.  Fie  saw  below  the  great  lakes, 
and  the  villages  of  the  Indians.  In  one  place,  he  saw  a  war  party  steal- 
ing on  the  camp  of  their  enemies.  In  another,  he  saw  feasting  and  dancin"-. 
On  a  green  plain,  young  men  were  engaged  at  ball.  Along  a  stream, 
women  were  employed  in  gathering  the  a-puk-wa  for  mats. 

"Do  you  see,"  said  the  brother,  "that  group  of  children  playing  beside 
a  loilge.  Observe  that  beautiful  and  active  boy,"  said  he,  at  the  same  time 
darting  something  at  him,  from  his  hand.  The  child  immediately  fell, 
and  was  carried  into  the  lodjrc. 

They  looked  again,  and  saw  the  people  gathering  about  the  lodge. 
They  hoard  the  she-she-gwan  of  the  meeta,  and  the  song  he  sung,  asking 
tliat  tlie  child's  life  might  be  spared.  To  this  request,  the  companion  of 
Ono-wut-a-qut-o  made  answer — "send  me  up  the  sacrifice  of  a  white  dop." 
Immediately  a  feast  was  ordered  by  the  parents  of  the  child,  the  white  dog 
was  killed,  his  carcass  was  roasted,  and  all  the  wise  men  and  medicine 
men  of  the  village  assembled  to  witness  the  ceremony     "There  are  many 


ff 


81 


Tin:    W'OUSMIl'    Of   THK    HUN. 


Im'Iow,  '  (.•oiititiinil  till'  viiiic  iil'lln  liioilici,  -wlioin  ymi  I'uMtfii  tt  in  mcJ 
ical  sUill,  liut  it  is  liciMii.ti'  tiiiir  niis  iiiii  upt'ii,  and  tlicy  listen  Id  my 
voii'i',  th.it  tlii'y  ail!  altlt:  to  Miii'ci'rd.  W'licn  1  iiuvi-  sttinciv  om;  willi  siclv 
iit'ss,  tlii'y  (linrt  tin-  jicdiili-  to  look  to  nif:  and  w  lien  tlicy  ycnd  nif  llic 
olit'iinu;  I  ai<!v,  1  rcinuvo  my  hand  I'mni  cili' tin m,  and  tiny  arc  well." 
Alter  lie  liad  said  litis,  lliey  saw  llio  saciilicf;  paieclled  out  in  dislus,  liif 
tliosi-  wilt)  wero  at  tlii^  I'eaM.  'I'Ik;  ina.->t(;i-  id'  tin:  rea>t  tlion  said,  "\vr  si  nil 
this  ti)  iht'i',  (Ircat  Manito,"  and  iminei.i.iti  ly  the  ^oa^t^.■ll  animal  tame  up. 
Thus  their  dinner  was  snpjilied,  and  after  they  had  eaten,  they  rulurned 
to  the  lodge  hy  aimther  way. 

Alier  tiiis  manner  tiny  lived  for  some  time;  hut  the  place  hetamo 
wearisome  at  1  ii^t.  (.)-no-wut-a-(iiit o  lliuiiylit  of  his  iiiends,  antl  wished 
to  ifo  haelv  to  them.  lie  had  not  forgotten  his  native  village,  and  iiis 
father's  lod<,fe;  and  he  asked  leave  of  his  wife,  to  return.  At  length 
she  consented.  '-Since  you  are  better  ]deased,"  slie  replied,  with  liio 
cares  and  the  ills,  and  the  jioverty  of  the  wiuld,  than  with  the  peaceful 
deliij^htsol  the  sky,  and  its  hoiindless  prairies,  go!  I  give  you  permission, 
and  since  I  have  inought  you  hiliier,  1  will  conduct  you  back;  but  re- 
member, you  are  .*till  my  husband,  1  hold  a  chain  in  my  hand  jjy  which 
I  can  draw  yoa  hack,  whenever  1  will.  J\Iy  power  over  you  is  not,  in  any 
imunrr,  diminished.  I'eware,  therefore,  how  you  venture  to  take  a  wife 
umnn^r  the  jieople  below.  Should  you  ever  do  so,  it  is  then  iha'  you  shall 
feel  the  force  of  my  dispicsiire." 

As  she  .''aid  this,  her  eyes  sparkled — she  raised  herself  slightly  on  her 
toes,  and  stretched  herself  up,  with  a  majestic  air;  and  at  that  moment,  U- 
no-wiit-a-(int  o  awoke  from  his  dream.  lie  found  himsell' on  the  gioiind, 
near  his  father's  lodge,  at  the  veiy  spot  where  he  liaJ  laid  hiiiiself  down 
to  fast.  Instead  of  the  bright  beings  of  a  higher  world,  he  found  himsell 
surrounded  by  his  parents  and  relatives.  1 1  is  mother  told  him  he  had 
been  absent  a  yeiir.  1'he  change  was  so  great,  that  he  remained  for  somo 
time  moody  and  anstracti.!,  but  by  degrees,  he  recovered  his  sjiirits.  lie 
began  to  doubt  the  realitv  of  all  he  had  heard  and  seen  above.  At  lust, 
he  forgot  the  admonitions  of  his  spouse,  and  married  a  beautiful  younc 
woman  of  his  own  tribe.  Hat  witiiin  four  days,  she  was  a  corjise.  Even 
the  fearful  admonition  was  lost,  and  he  repe'ated  the  oflence  by  a 
second  m;irriage.  Soon  afterwards,  he  went  out  of  the  lodge,  one  nio-lit, 
but  never  returned.  It  was  believed  that  his  wife  had  recalled  him  to  the 
region  of  the  clouds,  where  the  tradition  assert5,  he  still  dwells,  and  walka 
on  the  daily  rounds,  which  he  once  witnessed. 


The  native  tribes  are  a  people  without  maxims  :  One  of  the  few  which 
have  been  noticed  is  this  :  Do  not  tell  a  story  in  the  summer  ;  if  you  do, 
the  toads  will  visit  you. 


ri;  it  in  nicil 
listen  to  my 
u(!  wiili  sii'l"^" 

SLlul     111''    ll'<^ 
i.y     lllC'      will." 

Ill  dislii'S,  lor 
;,i,l,  ''ut'  siiid 
iiiuil  ciiii'"  "P- 

llii-y  iLluiiii:il 

jilnco  bc'Ciimo 
Is,  ami  witiWi'ti 
vilkigo,  iiuii  l"S 
„.      At   Icnj-th 
l.li.'il,   Willi  ihc 
ilh  lliu  iietK'clul 
you  iiuiinisbion, 
,u  kick;  but  re- 

liaiid  by  wbich 
you  is  not,  ill  ''"Y 
110  10  take  a  wilo 
t;i\  tlia'  yoii  sliall 

slightly  on  her 
that  nioniL'nt,  O- 
t'  on  llu!  giounJ, 
id  liiii.s'  II'  ilowu 
ho  i"u\uul  hinibult 
lold  hiui  he  had 
tinaiiu'd  I'oi'  sonio 
•A  his  spiiiw.     Ho 
11  above.     At  l^st, 
a  bfautiful  young 


s  a  corpse. 


Even 


the   ofTeiice   by   a 

e  kxlgf,  on(;  night, 

recalled  liiin  to  iho 

dwells,  and  walks 


leoftho  few  which 
immer  ;  if  you  <lo, 


siii\(;i:inss. 

FRO.M   Till;  OOJIIIU  A-AI.(J()\(iIII.\'. 

TiiDiii;  WI18  once  a  Sliinucliiss,  lllienariinir  ;i  kind  of  duck]  liviiiff  alone, 
ill  il  ."■ulitaiy  lodge,  (Ml  the  shdl'cs  iiC  the  ili  eji  .v  (if  a  lilke.  m  llu;  C(jMesl 
uiiilei'   \veallii;i".      'I'lii!  ice  li.id   fdiiiifd  on  iIp  r,  and  lii    hid  but  lour 

logs  of  wood  to  keep   lii.s   tiie.      iladi  of  il  w    uld,  liowtvcr,  liurn  a 

inoiitii,  and  as  there  were  but  (bur  cold  winter  uioiitlis,  tiny  were  suliicient 
lo  carry  hiiu  through  till  spiiiig. 

Shiugil/iss  was  hardy  ami  fearless,  and  cared  for  ikj  one.  lie  would 
go  out  during  the  coldest  day,  and  seek  fur  places  wheie  flags  and  rushca 
grew  tiiKtugh  the  ice,  and  jiIucKiiig  theiu  up  wilii  his  hill,  would  dive 
tlu\)ugli  the  ojicnings,  in  ipiest  of  lish.  In  this  way  hu  found  plenty  of 
fuol,  wiiile  others  were  starving,  and  he  went  home  daily  to  his  lodge, 
dra'^triiiif  strino;s  of  (i.sh  after  him,  on  the  ice. 

Kalicbonii-ca  •  obsiived  him,  and  felt  a  lililr  piipird  at  his  ])ersovorance 
and  good  biclc  in  ddiancij  of  tlie  smerr.-st  Idasts  of  wind  ho  could  semi 
from  the  northwest.  "  Why  !  tiiis  is  a  wonibrfnl  man,"  said  he;  '•  lie  does 
not  mind  the  cold,  ami  appunrs  as  happy  and  con»entcd,  as  if  it  wore  the 
month  of  June.  I  will  try,  whether  he  cannot  be  ina.=tcred."  lie  poured 
forth  ten-fold  colder  blasts.  ;iud  drifts  of  snow,  so  that  il  was  next  to  imj)os- 
silde  to  live  in  the  o[icn  air.  Still  the  (ire  of  Shingebiss  did  not  go  out  : 
he  wore  but  a  single  .stiip  of  leather  around  his  body,  and  he  was  seen,  in 
the  worst  weather,  s^eaicliing  the  siion  s  for  rushes,  and  carrying  homo  fish. 
"  I  shall  go  and  vi.'^it  him,"  said  Kabebonicca,  one  day,  as  lie  saw  Shin- 
gebi.ss  dragging  along  a  (piantity  of  (ish.  And  accordinglj',  that  very 
night,  ho  W(Mil  to  the  door  of  his  loiige.  Meantime  Shingebiss  had  cooked 
his  (isii,  and  (Inished  his  meal,  and  was  lying,  partly  on  his  side,  before 
the  fire  singing  his  songs.  After  Kabebonicca  had  come  to  the  door,  and 
stood  listening  there,  he  sang  as  follows  : 

Ka  N(;ej  Ka  Neej 

Be  In  Be  In 

Bon  In  Boil  In 

Oc  Ee.  'Oc  Ee. 


Ca 


W 


c-ya  ! 


Ca 


We-ya 


The  number  of  words,  in  this  song,  are  few  and  simple,  but  they  are 
made  up  from  compounds  wliicli  carry  the  whole  of  their  original  mean- 
ings, and  are  rather  suggestive  of  the  ideas  floating  in  the  mind,  than 
actual  expressions  of  those  ideas.      Literally  he  sings  : 

Spirit  of  the  North  West — you  are  but  my  fellow  man. 
*  A  persoiiilicutiou  of  llie  North  West. 

85 


I 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


1.25 


S?      1*0 


1.4 


■  2.2 

■  1.6 


^ 


•^ 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


33  WEST  MAIN  STREfT 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  873-4503 


.f^ 


^I^ 
^  ^ 


^ 


86 


SBINQEBISS. 


By  being  broken  into  syllables,  to  correspond  with  a  simple  chant,  and 
by  the  power  of  intonation  and  repetition,  with  a  chorus,  these  words  are 
expanded  into  melodious  utterance,  if  wc  may  be  allowed  the  term,  and 
may  be  thus  rendered  : 

Windy  god,  I  know  your  plan, 
You  are  but  my  fellow  man. 
Blow  you  may  your  coldest  breeze, 
Shingebiss  you  cannot  freeze. 
Sweep  the  strongest  wind  you  can, 
Shingebiss  is  still  yonr  man. 
Heigh  !  for  life — and  ho  !  for  bliss, 
Who  so  free  as  Shingebiss  ? 

The  hunter  knew  that  Kabebonicca  was  at  his  door,  for  he  felt  his  cold 
and  strong  breath  ;  but  he  kept  on  singing  his  songs,  and  affected  utter 
indifference.  At  length  Kabebonicca  entered,  and  took  his  seat  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  lodge.  But  Shingebiss  did  not  regard,  or  notice  him. 
He  got  up,  as  if  nobody  were  present,  and  taking  his  poker,  pushed  the 
log,  which  made  his  fire  burn  brighter,  repeating  as  he  sat  down  again  : 

You  are  but  my  fellow  man. 

Very  soon  the  tears  began  to  flow  down  Kabebonicca's  cheeks,  which 
increased  so  fast,  that,  presently,  he  said  to  himself,  "  I  cannot  stand  this — 
I  must  go  out."  He  did  so,  and  left  Shingebiss  to  his  songs  ;  but  resolved 
to  freeze  up  all  the  flag  orifices,  and  make  the  ice  thick,  so  that  he  could  not 
get  any  more  fish.  Still  Shingebiss,  by  dint  of  great  diligence,  found 
means  to  pull  up  new  roots,  and  dive  under  for  fish.  At  last  Kabebon- 
icca was  compelled  to  give  up  the  contest.  "  He  must  be  aided  by  some 
Monedo,"  said  he, ''  I  can  neither  freeze  him,  nor  starve  him,  he  is  a  very 
singular  being — I  will  let  him  alone." 


The  introduction  of  the  Saxon  race  into  North  America,  has  had  three 
determined  opponents,  the  life  of  each  of  whom  forms  a  distinct  era.  They 
were  Powhatan,  Metakom,  and  Pontiac.  Each  pursued  the  same  method 
to  accomplish  his  end,  and  each  was  the  indominitable  foe  of  the  race.— 
Sassacus  ought,  perhaps,  to  be  added  to  the  number.  Brant,  was  but  a 
partisan,  and  fought  for  one  branch,  against  another.  Tecumseh,  was 
also,  rather  the  foe  of  the  American  type  of  the  race,  than  the  whole  race. 
The  same  can  be  said  of  lesser  men,  such  as  Little  Turtle,  Buckanjnheela, 
and  Black  Hawk.  Uncas  was  also  a  partisan,  not  a  hater  of  the  white 
race,  and  like  Waub  Ojeeg  in  the  north,  fought,  that  one  tribe  might 
prevail  over  another.  If  the  Saxon  race  profited  by  this,  he  could  not 
help  it.  Tuscaloosa  fought  for  his  tribe's  supremacy ;  Osceola  for 
revenge. 


EARLY  INDIAN  BIOGRAPHY. 


P  I  S  K  A  R  E  T 


There  lived  a  noted  chief  on  the  north  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  in 
fi>e  latter  part  of  the  16th  century,  who  was  called  by  the  Iroquois,  Piskaret, 
but  the  true  pronunciation  of  whose  name,  by  his  oxyn  people,  was  Bisco- 
nace,  or  the  Little  Blaze.  Names  are  often  arbitrarily  bestowed  by  the 
Indians,  from  some  trivial  circumstance  in  domestic  life,  or  hunting,  as 
mere  nick  names,  which  take  the  place  of  the  real  names :  for  it  is  a  prac- 
tice among  this  people  to  conceal  their  real  names,  from  a  subtle,  supersti- 
tious notion,  that,  if  so  known,  they  will  be  under  the  power  of  priestly 
incantation,  or  some  other  evil  influence. 

What  the  real  name  of  this  man  was,  if  it  differed  from  the  above,  is  not 
known,  as  this  was  his  only  appellation.  He  was  an  Adirondak:  that 
is  to  say,  one  of  the  race  of  people  who  were  called  Adirondaks  by  the 
Iroquois,  but  Algonquins  by  the  French.  And  as  the  Algonquins  and 
Iroquois,  had  lately  became  deadly  enemies  and  were  so  then,  the  distinction 
to  which  Bisconace  rose,  was  in  the  conducting  of  the  war  which  his  peo- 
ple waged  against  the  Iroquois,  or  Five  Nations. 

It  seems,  from  the  accounts  of  both  English  and  French  authors,  that 
the  Algonquins,  at  the  period  of  the  first  settlement  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
were  by  far  the  most  advanced  in  arts  and  knowledge,  and  most  distin- 
guished for  skill  in  war  and  hunting,  of  all  the  nations  in  North  America. 
This  at  least  is  certain,  that  no  chief,  far  or  near,  enjoyed  as  high  a  repu- 
tation for  daring  valor  and  skill  as  Bisconace.  He  is  spoken  of  in  this 
light  hy  all  who  name  him ;  he  was  so  fierce,  subtle  and  indomitable  that 
he  became  the  terror  of  his  enemies,  who  were  startled  at  the  very 
mention  of  his  name.  Bisconace  lived  on  the  north  banks  of  the  St.  Law- 
rence, below  Montreal,  and  carried  on  his  wars  against  the  Indians  inhabit- 
ing the  northern  parts  of  the  present  state  of  New  York,  often  proceeding 
by  the  course  of  the  River  Sorel. 

The  period  of  the  Adirondak  supremacy,  embraced  the  close  of  the 
I5th  century  and  the  beginning  of  the  16th,  and  at  this  time  the  people  be- 
gan to  derive  great  power  and  boldness,  from  the  possession  of  fire  arms, 
with  which  the  French  supplied  them,  before  their  southern  and  western 
neighbours  came  to  participate  in  this  great  improvement,  this  striking  era 
of  the  Red  man,  in  the  art  of  war.  Colden  is  thought  to  be  a  little  out, 
in  the  great  estimate  he  furnishes  of  the  power,  influence,  and  advances 
of  this  great  family  of  the  Red  Race.  The  French  naturally  pufledthem 
up  a  good  deal ;  but  we  may  admit  that  they  were  most  expert  warriors, 
and  hunters,  and  manufactured  arms  and  canoes,  with  great  skill.     They 

.87 


Bo  EARLY    INDIAN    BIOGRAPHY. 

were  the  prominent  enemies  of  the  Five  Nations ;  and  like  all  enemies  at 
a  distance  had  a  formidable  name.  Tlie  word  Adirondak  is  one  of  Iro- 
quois origin;  but  the  French,  who  always  gave  their  own  names  to  the 
Tribes,  and  had  a  policy  in  so  doing,  called  them  Algonquins — a  term 
whose  origin  is  involved  in  some  obscurity.  For  a  time,  they  prevailed 
against  their  enemies  south  of  the  St.  Lawrence,  but  the  latter  were  soon 
furnished  with  arms  by  the  Dutch,  who  entered  the  Hudson  in  1G09,  and 
their  allies,  the  Iracoson,  or  Iroquois,  soon  assumed  that  rank  in  wur 
which,  if  they  had  before  lacked,  raised  them  to  so  high  a  point  of  pre- 
aminence.  It  was  in  that  early  period  of  the  history  of  these  nations  that 
Bisconace  exerted  his  power. 

Where  a  people  have  neither  history  nor  biography,  there  is  but  little 
hope  that  tradition  will  long  preserve  the  memory  of  events.  Some  of 
the  acts  of  this  chief  are  known  through  the  earlier  colonial  writers.  So 
great  was  the  confidence  inspired  in  the  breast  of  this  chief,  by  the  use  of 
lire  arms,  that  he  pushed  into  the  Iroquois  country  like  a  mad  man.  and 
performed  some  feats  against  a  people  armed  with  bows  only,  which  are 
astonishing. 

With  only  four  chiefs  to  aid  him,  he  left  Trois  Rivieres,  on  one  occa- 
sion, in  a  single  canoe,  with  fifteen  loaded  muskets,  thus  giving  three 
pieces,  to  each  man.  Each  piece  was  charged  with  two  balls,  joined  by  a 
small  chain  ten  inches  long.  Soon  after  entering  the  Sorel  river,  he  en- 
countered fiv:  jark  canoes  of  Iroquois,  each  having  ten  men.  To  cloak 
his  ruse  he  pretended  to  give  himself  up  for  lost,  in  view  of  such  a  dis- 
parity of  numbers ;  and  he  and  his  companions  began  to  sing  their  death 
song.  They  had  no  sooner  got  near  their  enemies,  however,  than  they 
began  to  pour  in  their  chain-shot,  riddling  the  frail  canoes  of  the  enemy, 
who  tumbled  into  the  water,  and  sank  under  the  active  blows  of  their 
adversaries.  Some  he  saved  to  grace  his  triumphant  return,  and  these 
were  tortured  at  the  stake. 

On  another  accasion  he  undertook  an  enterprize  alone.  Being  well 
acquainted  with  the  Iroquois  country,  he  set  out,  about  the  time  the  snow 
began  to  melt,  taking  the  precaution  to  put  the  hinder  part  of  his  snow- 
shoes  forward  to  mislead  the  enemy,  in  case  his  track  should  be  discovered. 
As  a  further  precaution,  he  avoided  the  plain  forest  paths,  keeping  along 
the  ridges  and  high  stony  grounds,  where  the  snow  was  melting,  that  his 
track  might  be  often  lost.  When  he  came  near  to  one  of  the  Villages  of 
the  Five  Nations,  he  hid  himself  till  night.  He  then  crept  forth,  and  en- 
tered a  lodge,  where  he  found  every  soul  asleep.  Having  killed  them  all, 
he  took  their  scalps,  and  went  back  to  his  lurking  place.  Tlie  ne.xt  day 
the  people  of  the  village  searched  in  vain  for  the  perpetrator.  At  night 
he  again  sallied  forth,  and  repeated  the  act,  on  another  lodge,  with  equal 
secrecy  and  success.  Again  the  villagers  searched,  but  could  find  nc 
traces  of  his  footsteps.     They  determined,  however,  to  set  a  watch.     Pis- 


EARLY    INDIAN    BIOGRAPHY. 


89 


llujjes  of 

and  cn- 

theni  all, 

next  day 

At  iiiglit 

■ith  equal 

find  nc 

Ich.     Pis- 


karet,  anticipating  this,  gathered  up  his  scalps,  and  stoic  forth  slyly,  but 
found  the  inhabitants  of  every  lodge  on  the  alert,  save  one,  where  the  sen- 
tinel had  fallen  asleep.  This  man  he  despatched  and  scalped,  but  alarmed 
the  rest,  who  rose  in  the  pursuit.  He  was,  however,  under  no  great 
fears  of  being  overtaken.  One  of  the  causes  of  his  great  CDnfideiice  in 
himself  was  found  in  the  fact  that  he  was  the  swiftest  runner  known. 
He  eluded  them  often,  sometimes,  however,  lingering  to  draw  them  on, 
and  tire  them  out.  When  he  had  played  this  tiick,  he  hiJ  liiniself.  His 
pursuers,  finding  they  had  let  him  escape,  encamped,  thinking  tlieinselvi.s 
in  safety,  but  they  had  no  sooner  fallen  asleep,  than  he  stole  forth  from 
his  lurking  place,  and  despatched  every  one  of  them.  He  added  their 
fecalps  to  his  bundle  of  trophies,  and  then  returned. 

Recitals  of  this  kind  flew  from  village  to  village,  and  gave  him  the 
greatest  reputation  for  courage,  adroitness  and  flectncss. 

The  Five  Nations  were,  however,  early  noted  for  their  skill  in  stratagem, 
and  owed  their  early  rise  to  it.  They  were  at  this  era  engaged  in  their 
long,  fierce  and  finally  triumphant  war  against  the  Algonquins  and  Wy- 
andots,  or  to  adopt  the  ancient  terms,  the  Adirondaks  and  Quatoghies. 
These  latter  they  defeated  in  a  great  battle,  fought  within  two  miles  of 
Q,uebec.  In  this  battle  the  French,  who  were  in  reality  weak  in  number, 
were  neutral.  Their  neutrality,  on  this  occasion,  happened  in  this  way. 
They  had  urged  the  reception  of  priests  upon  the  Five  Nations,  tiirough 
whose  influence,  they  hoped  to  prevail  over  that  people,  and  to  wrest 
western  New  York  from  the  power  of  the  Dutch  and  English.  As  soon 
as  a  number  of  these  missionaries  of  the  sword  and  cross  had  insinuated 
themselves  among  the  Five  Nations,  the  latter  seized  them,  as  hostages  j 
and,  under  a  threat  of  their  execution,  kept  the  French  quiet  in  this  deci- 
sive battle.  'J'his  scheme  had  succeeded  so  well,  that  it  taught  the  Five 
Nations  the  value  of  negociation  ;  and  they  determined,  the  next  year,  to 
try  another.  Pretending  that  they  were  now  well  satisfied  with  their  tri- 
umph on  ihe  St.  Lawrence,  they  sent  word  that  they  meant  to  make  a 
formidable  visit  to  Yonnendio,  this  being  the  official  name  they  1  •  ov.-ed 
on  the  governor  of  Canada.  Such  visits  they  always  made  with  great 
pomp  and  show ;  and  on  this  occasion,  they  came  with  1000  or  1200  men. 
On  tlie  way  to  Q,uebcc,  near  the  iiver  Nicolet,  their  scouts  met  Piskaret, 
whom  they  cajoled,  and  kept  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  large  force  behind 
until  they  had  drawn  out  of  him  an  important  piece  of  information,  and 
then  put  him  to  death.  They  cut  ofl^  his  head,  and  carried  it  to  the  Iro- 
quois army.  To  have  liilh.'d  liim,  was  regarded  as  an  assurance  of  ulti- 
mate victory.  Tliese  scouts  also  carried  to  the  army  tiie  information, 
which  they  had  olilained,  that  the  Adirondaks  were  divided  into  two 
bodies,  one  of  which  htinte.l  on  the  river  Nicohst,  and  tlie  other  at  a  place 
called  Wabmeke,  on  the  noith  side  of  the  St.  Lawrence.     They  immedi- 


90 


EARLY    INDIAN    BIOGRAPHY. 


ately  divided  their  forces,  fell  upon  each  body  at  unawares  and  cut  them 
both  to  pieces. 

This  is  the  great  triumph  to  which  Charlevoix,  in  his  history  of  New 
France,  alludes.  It  was  the  turning  point  in  the  war  against  the  confederated 
Wyandots,  and  Algonquins,  and,  in  effect,  drove  both  nations,  in  the  end, 
effectually  out  of  the  St.  Lawrence  valley.  The  former  fled  to  Lake  Hu- 
ron, to  which  they  imparted  their  name.  Some  of  the  Adirondaks  took 
shelter  near  Gluebec,  under  the  care  of  the  Jesuits ;  the  larger  number 
went  up  the  Utawas,  to  the  region  of  Lake  Nipising ;  the  Atawairos  fled 
to  a  large  chain  of  islands  in  Lake  Huron,  called  the  Menaloulins ;  other 
bands  scattered  in  other  directions.  Each  one  had  some  local  name;  and 
all,  it  is  probable,  were  well  enough  pleased  to  hide  their  defeat  by  the 
Five  Nations,  under  local  and  geographical  designations.  But  they  had 
no  peace  in  their  refuge.  The  spirit  of .  venge  burned  in  the  breast  of  the 
Iroquois,  particularly  against  their  kindred  tribe,  the  Wyandots,  whom 
they  pursued  into  Lake  Huron,  drovethemfromtheir  refuge  at  Michili- 
mackinac,  and  pushed  them  even  to  Lake  Superior,  where  for  many  years, 
this  ancient  tribe  continued  to  dwell. 


The  pernicious  examples  of  white  men,  who  have  conducted  the  Indian 
trade,  their  immoral  habits,  injustice,  and  disregard  of  truth,  and  open 
licentiousness,  have  created  the  deepest  prejudice  in  the  minds  of  the  Red 
men  against  the  whole  European  race. 

The  Indian  only  thinks  when  he  is  forced  to  think,  by  circumstances. 
Fear,  hunger  and  self-preservation,  are  the  three  prominent  causes  of  his 
thoughts.     Affection  and  reverence  for  the  dead,  come  next. 

Abstract  thought  is  the  characteristic  of  civilization.  If  teachers  could 
induce  the  Indians  to  think  on  subjects  not  before  known  to  them,  or  but 
imperfectly  known,  they  would  adopt  one  of  the  most  efficacious  means 
of  civilizing  them. 

Christianity  is  uhraism  to  an  Indian,  It  is  so  opposed  to  his  natural 
desires,  that  he,  at  first,  hates  it,  and  decries  it.  Opposite  states  of  feeling, 
however,  affect  him,  precisely  as  they  do  white  men.  What  he  at  fiist 
hates,  he  may  as  suddenly  love  and  embrace. 

Christianiity  is  not  propagated  by  ratiocination,  it  is  the  result  of  feelings 
and  aflTjctions  on  the  will  and  understanding  Hence  an  Indian  can  b«. 
come  a  christian. 


^ 


It  them 


of  New 
sderated 
the  end, 
ake  Hu« 
[iks  took 
number 
tiros  fled 
IS ;  other 
ime;  and 
ut  by  the 
they  had 
ast  of  the 
ts,  whom 
;  Michili- 
iny  years. 


he  Indian 
and  open 
f  the  Red 


imstances. 
ses  of  his 

lers  could 
m,  or  but 
)us  means 

is  natural 
of  feeling, 
le  at  ficst 

of  feelings 
nn  can  be* 


THE  SAUSTAWRAYTSEES, 

Oft 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  WYANDOT  AND  SENECA  TRIBES. 

A  WYANDOT  TRADITION. 

Towards  the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century,  a  body  of  Indians,  com 
posed  of  the  Wyandots  (or  as  they  weie  then  called  the  Saus-taw-ray- 
tsee)  and  Seneca  tribes  inhabited  the  borders  of  Lake  Ontario.  The  pre- 
sent Wyandots  and  Senecas  are  the  remains  of  this  community,  and  of 
the  cause  of  their  separation  and  of  the  relentless  hostilities  by  which  it 
was  succeeded,  the  following  details  are  given  in  the  truditionary  history 
of  the  Wyandots. 

A  Wyandot  girl,  whose  name  for  the  sake  of  distinction  shall  be  Oou' 
yay-ilee,  and  in  whom  appeared  united  a  rare  combination  of  moral  attrac- 
tions, and  of  extraordinary  personal  beauty,  had  for  her  suitors,  nearly 
all  the  young  men  of  her  tribe.  As  insensible  however,  as  beautiful,  the 
attentions  of  her  lovers  were  productive  of  no  favorable  effect,  for  though 
none  were  rejected,  yet  neither  was  any  one  distinguished  by  her  partiality. 
This  unaccountable  apathy  became,  in  time,  a  subject  not  only  of  general, 
but  of  common  interest  to  the  young  Wyandots.  A  council  composed  of 
those  interested  in  the  issue  of  these  many  and  importunate  applications 
for  her  favor,  was  held  for  the  purpose  of  devising  some  method,  by  which 
her  intentions  in  relation  to  them  might  be  ascertained.  At  this,  when 
these  amourists  had  severally  conceded,  each,  that  he  could  boast  of  no  in- 
dication of  a  preference  shown  by  Oon-yay-stee  to  himself,  upon  which  to 
found  a  reasonable  hope  of  uhimately  succeeding,  it  was  finally  deter- 
mined, that  their  claims  should  be  withdrawn  in  favor  of  the  War  Chief 
of  their  lodge.  This  was  adopted,  not  so  much  for  the  purpose  of  advan 
eing  the  interests  of  another  to  the  prejudice  of  their  own,  as  to  avoid  the 
numiliating  alternative  of  yielding  the  object  of  so  much  competition  tc 
some  more  fortunate  rival  not  connected  with  their  band. 

It  may  be  here  necessary  to  remark  that  nearly  all  the  suitors  belonged 
to  one  lodge,  and  that  each  of  these  was  a  large  oblonir  building,  capabl* 
of  containing  20  or  30  families,  the  domestic  arrangements  of  which  were 
regulated  by  a  war  chief,  acknowledged  as  the  head  of  that  particular  sub- 
ordinate band. 

Many  objections  to  the  task  imposed  on  him  by  this  proposition  were 

91 


92 


HISTORICAL    TRADITIONS. 


interposed  by  the  chief,  the  principal  of  wliich  were,  the  great  disparity  of 
age  and  the  utter  futility  of  any  furtiier  atttinpt,  upon  the  affections  of  one 
so  obdurate  of  heart.  The  fust  was  obviatid  by  some  well  applied  com- 
mendations of  his  person,  and  the  second  yicIJed  to  the  suijgestion  that 
women  were  often  capricious,  were  not  always  influenced  by  considera- 
tions the  most  natural,  or  resolvable  to  reasons  tlie  most  obvious. 

The  chief  then  painted  and  arrayed  himself  ns  for  battle,  bestowing 
some  little  additional  adornment  upon  his  person,  to  aid  him  in  this  species 
of  warfare,  with  which  he  was  not  altogether  so  familiar  as  that  in  which 
he  had  acijuired  his  reputation  ;  his  practice  having  been  confined  rather  to 
the  use  of  stone-headed  arrows  than  love  darts,  and  his  dexterity  in  the 
management  of  hearts  displayed  rather  in  making  bloody  incisions,  than 
tender  impressions.  Before  he  left  the  lodge,  his  retainers  pledged  them- 
selves, that  if  the  prosecution  of  this  adventure  should  impose  upon  their 
chief  the  necessity  of  performing  any  feat,  to  render  him  better  worthy  the 
acceptance  of  Oon-yay-stec,  they  would  aid  him  in  its  accomplishment, 
and  sustain  him  against  its  consequences  to  the  last  extremity.  It  was  re- 
served for  so  adventurous  a  spirit  that  it  should  be  as  successful  in  love,  as 
it  had  hitherto  been  resistless  in  war. 

After  a  courtship  of  a  few  days,  he  proposed  himself  and  was  condition- 
ally accepted,  but  what  the  nature  of  this  condition  was,  further  than  that 
it  was  indispensable,  Oon-yay-stee  refused  to  tell  him,  until  he  should 
have  given  her  the  strongest  assurances  that  it  should  be  complied  with. 
After  some  hesitation  and  a  consultation  with  the  lovers  who  urged  him 
to  give  the  promise,  he  declared  himself  ready  to  accept  the  terms  of  the 
compact.  Under  her  direction  he  then  pledged  the  word  of  a  warrior, 
that  neither  peril  to  person,  nor  sacrifice  of  affection  should  ever  prevail 
with  him  to  desist,  imprecating  the  vengeance  of  Hau-mea-dee-zhoo,  and 
the  persecution  of  Dnirk-shno-no-roo-no  upon  his  head  if  he  failed  to 
prosecute  to  the  uttermost,  the  enterprise,  if  its  accomplishment  were 
only  possible. 

She  told  him  to  bring  her  the  scalp  of  a  Seneca  chief  whom  she  desig- 
nated, who  for  some  reason  she  chose  not  to  reveal,  was  the  object  of  her 
hatred. 

The  Wyandot  saw  too  late,  that  he  was  committed.  He  besought  her 
to  reflect,  that  this  man  was  his  bosom  friend,  they  had  eaten  and  drank 
and  grown  up  together — and  how  heavy  it  would  make  his  heart  to  think 
that  his  friend  had  perished  by  his  hand.  He  remonstrated  with  her  op 
the  cruelty  of  such  A  requisition,  on  the  infamy  of  such  an  outrage  of  con 
fidence  and  the  execration  which  would  forever  pursue  the  author  of  an 
action  so  accursed.  But  his  expostulations  were  made  to  deaf  ears.  She 
(old  him  either  to  redeem  his  pledge,  or  consent  to  be  proclaimed  for  a 
lying  dog,  whose  promises  were  unworthy  ever  to  be  heard,  and  then  left 
him. 


HISTORICAf.    TBADITIONS. 


93 


An  hour  luiJ  hardly  elapsed,  before  tlio  infuriated  Wyandot  blackened 
his  face,  entered  the  Seneca  Village,  tomahawked  and  scalped  his  friend, 
and  as  he  rushed  out  of  the  lodge  shouted  the  scalp-whoop.  In  the  dark- 
ness of  the  night  his  person  could  not  be  distinguished,  and  he  was  chal- 
lenged by  a  Seneca  to  whom  he  gave  his  name,  purpose,  and  a  defiance 
and  then  continued  his  flight.  But  before  it  had  terminated,  the  long 
mournful  scalp-whoop  of  the  Senecas  was  resounding  through  the  Wy- 
nndot  Village;  and  the  chief  had  hardly  joined  in  the  furious  conflict  that 
ensued  hetween  the  avengers  of  his  murdered  victim  and  his  own  retain- 
ers, before  he  paid  with  his  life  the  forfeit  of  his  treachery. 

After  a  deadly  and  sustained  combat  for  three  days  and  nights,  witn 
alternate  success,  the  Wyandots  were  compelled  Vo  retire,  deserting  their 
village  and  abandoning  their  families  to  such  mercy  as  might  be  granted 
by  an  infuriated  enemy.  Those  who  were  left,  sunk  under  the  tomahawk 
and  scalping  knife — the  village  was  devastated — and  the  miserable  author 
of  the  bloody  tragedy  herself  perished  amid  this  scene  of  indiscriminate 
slaughter  and  desolation. 

This  war  is  said  to  have  continued  for  a  period  of  more  than  30  years, 
in  which  time,  the  Wyandots  had  been  forced  backwards  as  far  as  Lakes 
Huron  and  Michigan.  Here  they  made  an  obstinate  stand,  from  which  all 
the  efforts  of  their  relentless  enemies  to  dislodge  them  were  incflectual. 
Their  inveterate  hatred  of  each  other  was  fostered  by  the  war  parties  of 
the  respective  tribes,  whose  vindictive  feelings  led  them  to  hunt  and  de- 
stroy each  other,  like  so  many  beasts  of  the  forest.  These  resulted  gene- 
rally in  favor  of  the  Wyandots,  who,  inspirited  by  these  partial  successes, 
prepared  for  more  active  operations.  Three  encounters  took  place,  on  the 
same  day,  two  being  had  on  Lake  Michigan  and  one  on  Lake  Erie,  and 
which  from  their  savage  and  exterminating  character,  closed  this  long  and 
merciless  conte.st.  It  is  somewhat  remarkable,  as  no  other  tradition  makes 
mention  of  an  Indian  battle  upon  water,  that  one  of  these,  sa!  ?  to  have 
occurred  on  Lake  Erie,  between  Long  Point  and  Fort  Talbot,  t,  j;-  fought 
in  canoes.     Of  this  the  following  detail  is  given. 

A  large  body  of  Wyandots  accompanied  by  two  Ottawas  left  Lake  Hu- 
ron in  birch  canoes,  on  a  war  excursion  into  the  country  of  the  Senecas, 
who  had  settled  at  this  time,  near  the  head  of  the  Niagara  river.  They 
put  ashore  at  Long  Point  to  cook,  when  qiie  of  the  Ottawas  and  a  Wyan- 
dot were  sent  out  as  spies  to  reconnoitre.  They  had  proceeded  but  a  short 
distance  from  the  camp,  when  they  met  two  Senecas,  who  had  been  de- 
spatched by  their  party  for  the  like  purposes,  and  from  whom  they  instantly 
fled.  The  Ottawa  finding  his  pursuers  gaining  upon  him,  hid  himself  in 
the  branches  (;f  a  spruce  tree,  where  he  remained  till  the  Seneca  had 
passed.  The  Wyandot,  fleeter  of  foot,  Succeeded  in  reaching  his  camp 
and  gave  the  alarm,  when  the  whole  body  embarked  and  pushed  out  into 
the  lake.     In  another  moment  a  party  of  Senecas  was  discovered,  turning 


M  EARLY    SKETCHES   OF    INDIAN   DPOMEN. 

tho  nearest  point  of  land  in  wooden  canoes.  Immediately  the  war-whoops 
were  sounded  and  the  hostile  bands  began  to  chant  their  respective  songs. 
As  they  slowly  approached  each  other,  the  Wyandots  struck  a  fire,  ond 
prepared  their  gum  and  bark  to  repair  any  damage  which  might  occur  to 
the  canoes.  The  battle  was  fought  with  bows  and  arrows,  and  after  a 
furious  and  obstinate  contest  of  some  hours,  in  which  the  carnage  was 
dreadful,  and  the  canoes  were  beginning  to  fill  with  blood,  water  and  man- 
gled bodies,  the  Senecas  began  to  give  way.  The  encouraged  Wyandots 
fought  with  redoubled  ardor,  driving  the  Senecas  to  the  shore,  where  the 
conflict  was  renewed  with  unabated  fury.  The  Wyandots  were  victorious, 
and  few  of  the  surviving  Senecas  escaped  to  tell  the  story  of  their  defeat. 
One  of  the  prisoners,  a  boy,  was  spared  and  adopted  by  the  nation.  Two 
Wyandots  are  now  living  who  profess  to  have  seen  him,  when  very  far 
advanced  in  years. 

The  two  other  attacks  to  ^vhich  allusion  has  been  made,  as  occurring 
on  the  borders  of  Lake  Michigan,  were  not  more  fortunate  in  their  issue. 
The  Senecas  wore  repulsed  with  great  slaughter. 

Thus,  say  the  Wyandots,  originated  this  long,  bloody  and  disastrous 
war,  and  thus  it  terminated  after  proving  nearly  the  ruin  of  our  nation. 

HO-TSHUNG-RAH. 

Upper  Sandusky,  March  Is/,  1827. 


EARLY  SKETCHES  OF  INDIAN  WOMEN. 


The  oldest  books  we  possess  written  by  the  first  observers  of  our  In- 
dians abound  in  interest.  Among  these  is  a  small  work  by  William  Wood, 
who  visited  Plymouth  and  Massachusetts  soon  after  their  settlement,  and 
puUished  his  "iVew  England's  Prospect,"  in  London,  in  1634. 

The  following  extract  from  this  book,  (now  very  scarce,)  we  make 
here,  partly  for  the  purpose  which  the  author  declares  he  had  in  view  in 
writing  it,  viz. :  to  excite  the  speoial  interest  of  our  female  readers,  though 
the  good  humour  and  wit,  as  well  as  the  benevolence  of  the  writer,  will 
doubtless  commend  it  to  persons  of  both  sexes.  That  we  may  not  run 
the  risk  of  losing  any  of  the  effect  of  the  quaint,  old-fashioned  style  of 
the  original,  we  have  been  careful  to  preserve  the  author's  orthography 
and  punctuation,  together  with  the  long  sentences,  for  which,  as  well  as 
many  of  his  contemporaries,  he  was  remarkable.  We  have  omitted  short 
and  unimportant  passages  in  a  few  places,  marked  with  asterisks.   E. 


V hoops 

songs. 

re,  and 

ccur  to 

after  a 

ge  was 

id  man- 

ynndots 

lere  the 

torious, 

deFcut. 

Two 

'ery  far 

curring 
ir  issue. 

sastrous 

ation. 

H. 


IN. 


our  In- 
Wood, 
ent,  and 


make 

view  in 

though 

iter,  will 

not  run 

style  of 

ography 

well  as 

ted  short 

E. 


Im 


I 


I 


THE  INDIAN  MAIDEN 


WASB  ASH  AS; 


THE  TRIBE  THAT  GREW  OUT  OF  A  SHELL 


AN    OSAGE    LEGEND. 


There  was  a  snail  living  on  the  banks  of  the  river  Missouri,  where  he 
found  plenty  of  food,  and  wanted  nothing.  But  at  length  the  waters  be- 
gan  to  rise  and  overflow  its  banks,  and  although  the  little  animal  clung 
to  a  log,  the  flood  carried  them  both  away :  they  floated  along  for  many 
days.  When  the  water  fell,  the  poor  snail  was  left  in  the  mud  and  slime, 
on  shore.  The  heat  of  the  sun  came  out  so  strong,  that  he  was  soon  flxed 
in  the  slime  and  could  not  stir.  He  could  no  longer  get  any  nourish- 
ment. He  became  oppressed  with  heat  and  drought.  He  resigned  him- 
aelf  to  his  fate  and  prepared  to  die.  But  oil  at  once,  he  felt  a  renewed 
vigour.  His  shell  burst  open,  and  he  began  to  rise.  His  head  gradually 
rose  above  the  ground,  he  felt  his  lower  extremities  assuming  the  charac- 
ter of  feet  and  legs.  Arms  extended  from  his  sides.  He  felt  their  ex- 
tremities divide  into  fingers.  In  fine  he  rose,  under  the  influence  of  one 
day's  sun,  into  a  tall  and  noble  man.  For  a  while  he  remained  in  a  dull 
und  stupid  state.  He  had  but  little  activity,  and  no  clear  thoughts. 
These  all  came  by  degrees,  and  when  his  recollections  returned,  he  re- 
solved to  travel  back  to  his  native  land. 

But  he  was  naked  and  ignorant.  The  first  want  he  felt  was  hunger. 
He  saw  beasts  and  birds,  as  he  walked  along,  but  he  knew  not  how  to 
kill  them.  He  wished  himself  again  a  snail,  for  he  knew  how,  in  that 
form,  to  get  his  food.  At  length  he  became  so  weak,  by  walking  and 
fasting,  that  he  laid  himself  down,  on  a  grassy  bank,  to  die.  He  had  not 
laid  long,  when  he  heard  a  voice  calling  him  by  name.  "  Was-bas-has," 
exclaimed  the  voice.  He  looked  up,  and  beheld  the  Great  Spirit  sitting 
on  a  white  horse.  His  eyes  glistened  like  stars.  The  hair  of  his  head 
shone  like  the  sun.  He  could  not  bear  to  look  upon  him.  He  trembled 
from  head  to  foot.  Again  the  voice  spoke  to  him  in  a  mild  tone* 
"  Was-bas-has  I  Why  do  you  look  terrified  ?"  "  I  tremble,"  he  replied, 
because  1  stand  before  Him  who  raised  me  from  the  ground.     I  am  faint 

95 


96 


WASBASHAS. 


and  hungry, — I  have  eaten  nothing  since  the  floods  left  me  upon  the  shore 
—a  little  shell." 

The  (5reat  Spirit  here  lifted  up  his  hands  and  displaying  a  bow  and 
arrows,  told  him  to  look  at  him.  At  a  distance  sat  a  bird  on  a  tree.  He 
put  an  arrow  to  the  string,  and  pulling  it  with  force,  brought  down  the 
beautiful  object.  At  this  moment  a  deer  came  in  sight.  He  placed  ano- 
ther arrow  to  the  string,  and  pierced  it  through  and  through.  "  These" 
said  he,  '"arc  your  food,  and  these  are  your  arms,''  handing  him  the  bdw 
and  arrows.  He  then  instructed  him  how  to  remove  the  skin  of  the  deer, 
and  prepare  it  for  a  garment.  "  You  are  naked,"  said  he,  "and  must  be 
clothed  ;  it  is  now  warm,  but  the  skies  will  change,  and  bring  rains,  and 
snow,  and  cold  winds."  Having  said  this,  he  also  imparted  the  gift  of  fire, 
and  instructed  him  how  to  roast  the  flesh.  He  then  placed  a  collar  of 
wampum  around  his  neck.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  your  authority  over  all 
beasts."  Having  done  this,  both  horse  and  rider  rose  up,  and  vanished 
from  his  sight. 

Was-bas-has  refreshed  himself,  and  now  pursued  his  way  to  his  native 
land.  He  had  seated  himself  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  was  medita- 
ting on  what  bad  passed,  when  a  lavge  beaver  rose  up  from  the  channel 
and  addressed  him.  "  Who  art  thou ;"  said  the  beaver,  "  that  comest  here 
to  disturb  my  ancient  reign?"  "lamajnan,"  he  replied;  "  I  was  once  a  s/teW, 
a  creeping  shell ;  but  who  art  thou  ?"  "  I  am  king  of  the  nation  of  beavers," 
he  answered :  "  I  lead  my  people  up  and  down  this  stream ;  we  are  a  busy 
people,  and  the  river  is  my  dominion."  "  I  must  divide  it  with  you,"  re- 
torted Was-bas-has.  "  The  Great  Spirit  has  placed  me  at  the  head  of 
beasts  and  birds,  fishes  and  fowl ;  and  has  provided  me  with  the  power 
of  maintaining  my  rights."  Here  he  held  up  the  bow  and  arrows,  and 
displayed  the  collar  of  shells  around  his  neck.  "  Come,  come,"  said  the 
Beaver,  modifying  his  tone,  "  I  perceive  wc  are  brothers. — Walk  with  me 
to  my  lodge,  and  refresh  yourself  after  your  journey,"  and  so  saying  he 
led  the  way.  The  Snail-Man  willingly  obeyed  his  invitation,  and  had 
no  reason  to  repent  of  his  confidence.  They  soon  entered  a  fine  large  vil- 
lage, and  his  host  led  him  to  the  chiefs  lodge.  It  was  a  well-built  room, 
of  a  cone-shape,  and  the  floor  nicely  covered  with  mats.  As  soon  as 
they  were  seated,  the  Beaver  directed  his  wife  and  daughter  to  prepare 
food  for  their  guest.  While  this  was  getting  ready,  the  Beaver  chief 
thought  he  would  improve  his  opportunity  by  making  a  fast  friend  of  so 
superior  a  being ;  whom  he  saw,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  but  a  novice. 
He  informed  him  of  the  method  they  had  of  cutting  down  trees,  with  their 
teeth,  and  of  felling  them  across  streams,  so  as  to  dam  up  the  water,  and  de- 
scribed the  method  of  finishing  their  uams  whh  leaves  and  clay.  He  also 
instructed  him  in  the  way  of  erecting  lodges,  and  with  other  wise  and 
seasonable  conversation  beguiled  the  time.  His  wife  and  daughter  now 
entered,  bringmg  in  vessels  of  fresh  peeled  poplar,  and  willow,  and  sussa- 


ORIGIN   OF   THE   OORMOUbU. 


97 


fras,  nnd  alder  bark,  which  is  the  most  choice  food  known  to  thctn.  Of 
this,  Was-bas-has  made  a  merit  of  tasting,  while  his  entertainer  devoured 
it  with  pleasure.  He  was  pleased  with  the  modest  looks  and  deportment  of 
the  chief's  daughter,  and  her  cleanly  and  neat  attire,  and  her  assiduous 
attention  to  the  commands  of  her  father.  This  was  ripened  into  esteem 
by  the  visit  he  made  her.  A  mutual  attachment  ensued.  A  union  was 
proposed  to  the  father,  who  was  rejoiced  to  find  so  advantageous  a  match 
for  his  daughter.  A  great  feast  was  prepared,  to  which  all  the  beavers, 
and  other  animals  on  good  terms  with  them,  were  invited.  The  Snail- 
Man  and  the  Beaver-Maid  were  thus  united,  and  this  union  is  the  origin 
of  the  Osages.     So  it  is  said  by  the  old  people. 


THE  BOY  WHO  SET  A  SNARE  FOR  THE  SUN; 


OK 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  KUG-E-BEENG-WA-KWA,*  OR  DORMOUSE. 


re- 


FROM   THE   ODJIBWA   ALGONQUIN. 

At  the  time  when  the  animals  reigned  in  the  earth,  they  had  killed  all 
but  a  girl,  and  her  little  brother,  and  these  two  were  living  in  fear  and  se- 
clusion. The  boy  was  a  perfect  pigmy,  and  never  grew  beyond  the  stature 
of  a  small  infant ;  but  the  girl  increased  with  her  years,  so  that  the  labor 
of  providing  food  and  lodging  devolved  wholly  on  her.  She  went  out 
daily  to  get  wood  for  their  lodge-fire,  and  took  her  little  brother  along  that 
no  accident  might  happen  to  him ;  for  he  was  too  little  to  leave  alone.  A 
big  bird  might  have  flown  away  with  him.  She  made  him  a  bow  and 
arrows,  and  aiid  to  him  one  day,  "  I  will  leave  you  behind  where  I  have 
been  chopping — you  must  hide  yourself,  and  y^iu  will  soon  see  the  Git- 
shce-gitshee-gaun,  ai  seeug  or  snow  birds,  come  and  pick  the  worms  out  of 
the  wood,  where  I  have  been  chopping,"  (for  it  was  in  the  winter.)  "  Shoot 
one  of  them  and  bring  it  home."  He  obeyed  her,  and  tried  his  best  to  kill 
Oi'e,  but  came  home  unsuccessful.  She  told  him  he  must  not  despair,  but 
try  again  the  nex*  day.  She  accordingly  left  him  at  the  place  she  got 
wood,  and  returned.  Towards  nightfall,  she  heard  his  little  footsteps  on 
the  snow,  and  he  camo  in  e.vuUingly,  and  threw  down  one  of  the  birds, 
which  he  had  killed.  "  My  sister,"  said  he,  "  I  wish  you  to  skin  it  and 
stretch  the  skin,  and  when  I  have  killed  more,  I  will  have  a  coat  made 
out  of  them."  "  But  what  shall  wc  do  with  the  body  ?"  said  she :  for  as  yet 
men  had  not  begun  to  eat  animal  food,  but  lived  on  vegetables  alone. 
"  Cut  it  in  two,"  he  answered,  "  and  season  our  pottage  with  one  half  of  it 

*  Blind  Woman. 
7 


lap 


E 


m 


^fl 


M 


I 


Hii 


88 


ORIGIN   OP  THE   DORMOVSE. 


at  a  time."  She  did  so.  The  boy,  who  was  of  a  very  small  stature,  con- 
tinued his  efforts,  and  succeeded  in  killing  ten  birds,  out  of  the  skins  of 
which  his  sister  made  him  a  little  coat. 

"Sister,"  said  he  one  day,  "are  we  all  alone  in  the  Avorld  ?  Is  there  nobody 
else  living-?"  She  told  him  that  those  they  feared  and  who  had  destroyed 
their  relatives  lived  in  a  certnin  quarter,  and  that  he  must  by  no  means  go 
in  that  direction.  This  only  served  to  inflame  his  curiosity  and  raise  his 
ambition,  and  he  soon  after  took  his  bow  and  arrows  and  went  in  that 
direction.  After  walking  a  long  time  and  meeting  nothing,  he  became 
tired,  and  lay  down  on  a  knoll,  where  the  sun  had  melted  the  snow.  He 
fell  fast  asleep;  and  while  sleeping,  the  sun  beat  so  hot  upon  him,  that  it 
singed  and  drew  up  his  bird-skin  coat,  so  that  when  he  awoke  and 
stretched  himself,  he  felt  bound  m  it,  as  it  were.  He  looked  down  and 
saw  the  damage  done  to  his  coat.  He  flew  into  a  passion  and  upbraided 
the  sun,  and  vowed  vengeance  against  it.  "  Do  not  think  you  are  too 
high,"  said  he,  *'  I  shall  revenge  myself" 

On  coming  home  he  related  his  disaster  to  his  sister,  and  lamented  bit- 
terly the  spoiling  of  his  coat.  He  would  not  eat.  He  lay  down  as  one 
that  fasts,  and  did  not  stir,  or  move  his  position  for  ten  days,  though  she 
tried  all  she  could  to  arouse  him.  At  the  end  often  days,  he  turned  over, 
and  then  lay  ten  daj'S  on  the  other  side.  When  he  got  up,  he  told  his 
sister  to  make  him  a  snaie,  for  he  meant  to  catch  the  sun.  She  said  she 
had  nothing;  but  finally  recollected  a  little  piece  of  dried  deer's  sinew,  that 
her  father  had  left,  which  she  soon  made  into  a  string  suitable  for  a  noose. 
But  the  moment  she  showed  it  to  him,  he  told  her  it  would  not  do,  and 
bid  her  get  something  else.  She  said  she  had  nothing — notliing  at  all. 
At  last  she  thought  of  her  hair,  and  pulling  some  of  it  out  of  her  head, 
made  a  string.  But  he  instantly  said  it  would  not  answer,  and  bid  her, 
pettishly,  and  with  authority,  make  him  a  noose.  She  told  him  there 
was  nothing  to  make  it  of,  anu  went  out  of  the  lodge.  She  said  to  her- 
self, when  she  had  got  without  the  lodge,  and  while  she  was  all  alone, 
"neow  obewy  indapin."  Tliis  she  did,  and  twisting  them  into  a  tiny 
cord  she  handed  it  to  her  brother.  The  moment  he  saw  this  curious 
braid  he  was  delighted.  '■'  This  will  do,"  he  said,  and  immediately  put  it 
to  his  mouth  and  began  pulling  it  through  his  lips  ;  and  as  fast  as  he  drew 
it  changed  it  into  a  red  metal  cord,  which  he  wound  around  his  body  and 
shoulders,  till  he  had  a  large  quantity.  He  then  prepared  himself,  and 
set  out  a  little  after  midnight,  that  he  might  catch  the  sun  before  it  lose. 
He  fi.xed  his  snare  on  a  spot  just  wliere  the  sun  would  strii^e  the  land,  as 
it  rose  above  the  earth's  disc  ;  and  sure  enougii,  he  caught  the  sun,  so  that 
it  was  held  fast  in  the  cord,  and  did  not  rise. 

The  animals  who  ruled  the  earth  were  immediately  put  into  a  great 
commotion.  They  had  no  light.  They  called  a  council  to  debate  upon 
the  matter,  and  to  appoint  some  one  to  go  and  cut  the  cord — for  tiiis 


AMPATA   SAPA. 


99 


re,  con- 
kins  of 


notocly 
eslroyed 
leans  go 
•aise  hia 
;  in  that 
became 
nv.     He 
m,  that  it 
oke  and 
own  and 
ipbraided 
1  are  too 

ented  bit- 
vn  as  one 
liough  she 
nied  over, 
le  told  his 
le  said  she 
sinew,  that 
or  a  noose. 
lOt  do,  and 
ing  at  all. 
ler  head, 
id  bid  her, 
uiu  there 
said  to  her- 
all  alone, 
into  a  tiny 
lis  curious 
iulely  put  it 
as  he  drew 
is  body  and 
iuiself,  and 
fore  it  rose, 
the  land,  as 
sun,  so  that 

into  a  groat 
lebate  upon 
d— for  this 


was  a  very  hazardous  enterprize,  as  the  rays  of  the  sun  would  burn  who- 
ever came  so  near  to  them.  At  last  the  dormouse  undertook  it — for  at 
this  time  the  dormouse  was  the  largest  animal  in  the  world.  When  it 
stood  up  it  looked  like  a  mountain.  When  it  got  to  the  place  where  the 
sun  was  snared,  its  back  began  to  smoke  and  burn,  with  the  intensity  of 
the  heat,  and  the  top  of  its  carcass  was  reduced  to  enormous  heaps  of 
ashes.  It  succeeded,  however,  in  cutting  the  cord  with  its  teeth,  and  free- 
ing the  sun,  but  it  was  reduced  to  a  very  small  size,  and  has  remained 
so  ever  since.     Men  call  it  the  Kug-e-been-g\va-kwa. 


AMPATA    SAPA; 

OR, 

THE  FIRST-WIFE. 

A   TRADITION    OF   THE   DACOTAHS. 

Ampata  Sapa  was  the  wife  of  a  brave  young  hunter  and  warrior,  by 
whom  she  had  two  children.  They  lived  together  in  great  happiness, 
which  was  only  varied  by  the  changes  of  a  forest  life.  Sometimes  they 
lived  on  the  prairies  ;  sometimes  they  built  their  wigwam  in  the  forest, 
near  the  bmks  of  a  stream,  and  they  paddled  their  canoe  up  and  down  the 
rivers.  In  these  trips  they  got  fish,  when  they  were  tired  of  wild  meats. 
In  the  summer  season  they  kept  on  the  open  grounds  ;  in  the  winter,  they 
fi.xed  liv.ir  camp  in  a  sheltered  position,  in  the  woods.  The  very  change 
of  their  camp  was  a  source  of  pleasure,  for  they  were  always  on  the  look- 
out for  something  nnw.     They  had  plenty,  and  they  wanted  nothing. 

In  this  manner  the  first  years  of  their  marriage  passed  away.  But  it  so 
happened,  that  as  years  went  by,  the  reputation  of  her  husband  in  the  tribe 
increased,  and  he  soon  camo  to  be  regarded  as  a  Weetshahstshy  Atapee,  or 
chief  This  opened  a  nc  field  for  his  ambition  and  pride.  The  fame 
of  a  ciiicf,  it  is  well  known,  is  often  increased  by  the  number  of  his  wives. 
His  lodge  was  now  thronged  with  visitors.  Some  came  to  consult  him  ; 
some  to  gnin  his  favour.  All  this  gave  Ampata  Sapa  no  uneasiness,  for 
the  Red  People  like  to  have  visitors,  and  to  show  hospitality.  The  first  thing 
that  caused  a  jar  in  her  mind,  was  the  rumour  that  her  husband  was  about 
to  take  a  new  wife.  This  was  like  a  poison  in  her  veins  ;  for  she  had  a  big 
heart.  She  was  much  attached  to  her  husband,  and  she  could  not  bear 
the  idea  of  sharing  his  affections  with  another.  But  she  found  that  the 
idea  had  already  got  strong  hold  of  her  husband's  mind,  and  her  remon- 
strances did  little  good.  He  defended  himself  on  the  ground,  that  it  would 
give  him  greater  influence  in  the  tribe  if  he  took  the  daughter  of  a  noted 


ill 


100 


AM  PAT  A   SAPA. 


chief.  liiit  before  ho  had  time  to  bring  her  to  his  lodge,  Ampata  Sapn 
had  fled  from  it,  taking  her  two  ciiildrcn,  and  returned  to  her  father's 
lodge.  Her  father  lived  at  some  distance,  and  here  she  remained  a  short 
time  in  quiet.  The  whole  band  soon  moved  up  the  Mississippi,  to  their 
hunting  ground.  She  was  glad  to  go  with  them,  and  would,  indeed,  have 
been  glad  to  go  any  where,  to  get  farther  from  the  lodge  of  her  faithless 
husband. 

Here  the  winter  wore  away.  When  the  Spring  opened,  they  came 
back  again  to  the  banks  of  the  river,  and  mended  and  fitted  up  the  canoes, 
which  they  had  left  in  the  fall.  In  these  they  put  their  furs,  and  de- 
scended to  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony.  Ampata  Sapa  lingered  behind  a 
short  time  the  morning  of  their  embarkation,  as  they  began  to  draw  near 
the  rapids  which  precede  the  great  plunge.  She  then  put  her  canoe  in 
the  water,  and  embarked  with  her  children.  As  she  approached  the  falls, 
the  increasing  velocity  of  the  current  rendered  the  paddles  of  but  little 
use.  She  rested  with  her's  suspended  in  her  hands,  while  she  arose,  and 
uttered  her  lament : 

"It  was  him  only  that  I  loved,  with  the  love  of  my  heart.  It  was  for 
him  that  I  prepared,  with  joy,  the  fresh  killed  meat,  and  swept  with 
boughs  my  lodge-fire.  It  was  for  him  I  dressed  the  skin  of  the  noble  deer, 
and  worked,  with  my  hands,  the  Moccasins  that  graced  his  feet. 

I  waited  while  the  sun  ran  his  daily  course,  for  his  return  from  the 
chase,  and  I  rejoiced  in  my  heart  when  I  heard  his  manly  footsteps  ap- 
proach the  lodge.  He  threw  down  his  burden  at  the  door — it  was  a 
haunch  of  the  deer  ; — I  flew  to  prepare  the  meat  for  his  use. 

My  heart  was  bound  up  in  him,  and  he  was  all  the  world  to  me.  But 
he  has  left  me  for  another,  and  life  is  now  a  burden  which  I  cannot  bear. 
Even  my  children  add  to  my  griefs — tiiey  look  so  much  like  him.  IIow 
can  I  support  life,  when  all  its  moments  are  bitter  !  I  have  lifted  up  my 
voice  to  the  Master  of  life.  I  have  asked  him  to  take  back  that  life,  which 
he  gave,  and  which  I  no  longer  wish.  I  am  on  the  current  that  hastens 
to  fulfil  my  prayer.  I  see  the  white  foam  of  the  water.  It  is  my  shroud. 
I  hear  the  deep  murmur  from  below.    It  is  my  funeral  song.     Farewell. 

It  was  too  late  to  arrest  her  course.  She  bad  approached  too  near  the 
abyss,  before  her  purpose  was  discovered  by  her  friends.  They  beheld 
her  enter  the  foam — they  saw  the  canoe  for  an  instant,  on  the  verge,  and 
then  disappear  for  ever.  Such  was  the  end  of  Ampata  Sapa  ;  and  they  say 
her  canoe  can  sometimes  be  seen,  by  moonlight,  plunging  over  the  falls. 


Internal  dissention  has  done  more  to  destroy  the  Indian  power  in 
America,  than  the  white  man's  sword.  Could  the  tribes  learn  the  wis- 
dom of  confederation,  they  might  yet  be  saved.  This  is  a  problem  now 
undergoing  an  interesting  process  of  solution. 


Sapn 
ilhcr's 
I  sliort 
)  their 
I,  have 
lith 


r  came 
canoes, 
and  tle- 
jhind  a 
iw  near 
;anoe  in 
ihe  falls, 
)ut  little 
ose,  and 

,  was  for 
ept  with 
ible  deer, 

from  the 
)tsteps  ap- 
_it  was  a 

me.  But 
nnot  bear, 
m.     How 

cd  up  my 
life,  which 
at  hastens 
ly  shroud, 
arewell. 
10  near  the 
ley  beheld 
verge,  and 
nd  tlicy  say 
the  fulls. 


power  m 
rn  the  wis- 
oblem  now 


MUKAKKR    MINDEMOEA; 

on, 

THE  TOAD-WOMAN. 

AN  ODJIBWA  TALK. 

(Jkeat  good  luck  once  happened  lo  a  young  woman  who  was  living  all 
alone  m  the  woods,  with  nobody  near  her  but  her  liulc,  dog,  for,  to  lier  sur- 
jrise,  slie  found  fresh  meat  t!very  morning  at  lier  door.  She  felt  very 
an.xious  to  know  who  it  was  lliat  supplied  her,  and  watching  one  morning, 
very  early,  she  saw  a  han('8or.ie  young  man  deposit  the  meat.  After  his 
being  seen  by  her,  he  became  her  husband,  and  she  liad  a  son  by  him. 
One  day  not  long  after  this,  the  man  did  not  return  at  evening,  as  usual, 
frotn  himting.  She  waited  till  late  at  night,  but  all  in  vain.  Ne.xt  day 
she  swung  her  baby  to  sleep  in  its  tikemigun,  or  cradle,  and  then  said  to 
her  dog:  "  Take  care  of  your  brother  whilst  I  am  gone,  and  when  he 
cries,  halloo  for  me."  The  cradle  was  made  of  the  finest  wampum,  and 
all  its  bandages  and  decorations  were  ot  the  same  costly  material.  After 
a  shoit  time  the  woman  heard  the  cry  of  her  faithful  dog,  and  running 
home  as  fast  as  she  could,  she  found  her  child  gone  and  the  dog  too. 
But  on  looking  round,  she  saw  pieces  of  the  wampum  of  her  child's  cradle 
bit  off  by  the  dog,  who  strove  to  retain  the  child  and  prevent  his  being 
carried  off  by  an  old  woman  called  Mukakee  Mindemoea,  or  the  Toad- 
Woman.  Tlie  mother  followed  at  full  speed,  and  occasionally  came  to 
lodges  irdiabited  by  old  women,  who  told  her  at  what  time  the  thief  had 
passed  ;  they  also  gave  her  shoes,  that  she  might  follow  on.  There  were 
a  number  of  these  old  women,  \'.  ho  seemed  as  if  they  were  all  prophetesses. 
Each  of  them  would  say  to  her,  that  when  she  arrived  in  pursuit  of  her 
stolen  child  at  the  ne.xt  lodge,  she  must  set  the  toes  of  the  moccasins  they 
had  loaned  her  pointing  homewards,  and  they  would  return  of  themselves. 
She  would  get  others  from  her  entertainers  farther  on,  who  would  also 
give  her  directions  how  to  proceed  to  recover  her  son.  She  thus  followed 
in  the  pursuit,  from  valley  to  valley,  and  stream  to  stream,  for  months  and 
years ;  when  she  came,  at  length,  to  the  lodge  of  the  last  of  the  friendly  old 
Nocoes,  or  grandmothers,  as  they  were  called,  who  gave  lier  final  iustruc, 
tions  how  to  proceed.  She  told  her  she  was  near  the  place  where  her  son 
was,  and  directed  her  to  build  a  lodge  of  shingoob,  or  cedar  boughs,  near 
the  old  Toad- Woman's  lodge,  and  to  make  a  little  bark  dish  and  s([ueeze 
her  milk  into  it.  "  Then,"  she  said,  "  your  first  child  (meaning  the  dog) 
will  come  and  find  you  out''     She  did  accordingly,  and  in  a  short  time 

101 


•\m 


102 


MUKAKEE   MINDEMOEA. 


she  heard  her  son,  now  grown,  going  out  to  hunt,  with  his  dog,  calling  out 
to  him,  "  Monedo  Pcwaubik  (that  is,  Steel  or  Spirit  Iron,)  Twee . 
Twee!"  She  then  set  ready  the  dish  and  filled  it  with  her  milk.  The 
dog  soon  scented  it  and  came  into  the  lodge;  she  placed  it  bi^fore  him. 
"  See  my  child,"  said  she,  addressing  him,  "  the  food  you  used  to  have 
from  me,  your  mother."  The  dog  went  and  told  his  young  niasler  tliat 
he  had  found  his  real  mother ;  and  informed  him  that  the  old  woman,  whom 
he  called  his  mother,  was  not  his  mother,  that  she  had  stolen  him  \\hti\  an 
infant  in  his  cradle,  and  that  he  had  himself  followed  her  in  hopes  of  get- 
ting him  back.  The  young  man  and  his  dog  then  went  on  their  hunting 
excursion,  and  brought  back  a  great  quantity  of  meat  of  all  kinds.  Fie 
said  to  his  pretended  mother,  as  he  laid  it  down,  "  Send  some  to  the 
stranger  that  iias  arrived  lately."  The  old  hag  answered,  "  No  I  why 
should  I  send  to  her — the  Sheegowish."*  He  insisted  ;  and  she  at  last 
consented  to  take  something,  throwing  it  in  at  the  door,  with  the  remark, 
"My  son  gives  you,  or  feeds  you  this."  But  it  was  of  such  an  ofl'ensive 
nature,  that  she  threw  it  immediately  out  after  her. 

After  this  the  young  man  paid  the  stranger  a  visit,  at  her  lodge  of  cedar 
boughs,  and  partook  of  her  dish  of  milk.  She  then  told  him  she  was  his 
real  mother,  and  that  he  had  been  stolen  away  from  her  by  the  detestable 
Toad-Woman,  who  was  a  witch.  He  was  not  quite  convinced.  She 
said  to  him,  "  Feign  yourself  sick,  when  you  go  home,  and  when  the 
Toad- Woman  asks  what  ails  you,  say  that  you  want  to  see  your  cradle  ; 
for  your  cradle  was  of  wampum,  and  your  faithful  brother,  the  dog,  bit  a 
piece  off  to  try  and  detain  you,  which  I  picked  up,  as  I  followed  in  your 
track.  They  were  real  wampum,  white  and  blue,  shining  and  beautiful." 
She  then  showed  him  the  pieces.  He  went  home  and  did  as  his  real 
mother  bid  him.  "  Mother,"  said  he,  "  why  am  I  so  different  in  my 
looks  from  the  rest  of  your  children?"  "  Oh,"  said  she,  "it  was  a  very 
bright  clear  blue  sky  when  you  were  born  ;  that  is  the  reason."  When 
the  Toad-Woman  saw  he  was  ill,  she  asked  what  she  could  do  for  liim. 
He  said  nothing  would  do  him  good,  but  the  sight  of  his  cradle.  She  ran 
immediately  and  got  a  cedar  cradle;  but  he  said  "  That  is  not  my  cradle." 
She  went  and  got  one  of  her  own  children's  cradles,  (for  she  had  four.)  but 
he  turned  his  head  and  said,  "  That  is  not  mine."  She  then  produced  the 
real  cradle,  and  he  saw  it  was  the  same,  in  substance,  with  the  pieces  the 
other  had  shown  him  ;  and  he  was  convinced,  for  he  could  even  see  the 
marks  of  the  dog's  teeth  upon  it. 

He  soon  got  well,  and  went  out  hunting,  and  killed  a  fat  bear.  He  and 
his  dog-brother  then  stripped  a  tall  pine  of  all  its  branches,  and  stuck  the 
carcass  on  the  top,  taking  the  usual  sign  of  his  having  killed  an  animal — 
the  tongue.  He  told  the  Toad- Woman  where  he  had  left  it,  saying,  "  It 
is  very  far,  even  to  the  end  of  the  earth."  She  answered,  "  It  is  not  so  far 
*  Sheegowis$,  a  widow,  and  tnoteigh,  something  nasty. 


T 


MUKAKEE    MINDEMOEA. 


103 


but  I  can  get  it,"  so  off  she  set.  As  soon  as  she  was  gone,  the  young  man 
and  his  dog  killed  the  Toad-Woman's  children,  and  staked  them  on  each 
side  of  the  door,  with  a  piece  of  fat  in  their  mouths,  and  then  went  to  his 
real  mother  and  hastened  her  departure  with  them.  The  Toad-Woman 
spent  a  long  time  in  finding  the  bear,  and  had  much  ado  in  climbing  the 
tree  to  get  down  the  carcass,  As  she  got  near  home,  she  saw  the  children 
looking  out,  apparently,  with  the  fat  in  their  mouths,  and  was  angry  at 
them,  saying,  "  Why  do  you  destroy  the  pomatum  of  your  brother."  But 
her  fury  was  great  indeed,  when  she  saw  they  were  killed  and  impaled. 
She  ran  after  the  fugitives  as  fast  as  she  could,  and  was  near  overtaking 
them,  when  the  young  man  said,  "  We  are  pressed  hard,  but  let  this  stay 
her  progress,"'  throwing  his  fire  steel  behind  him,  which  caused  the  Toad- 
Woman  to  slip  and  fall  repeatedly.  But  still  she  pursued  and  gained  on 
them,  when  he  threw  behind  him  his  flint,  which  again  retarded  her,  for 
it  made  her  slip  and  stumble,  so  that  her  knees  were  bleeding ;  but  she 
continued  to  follow  on,  and  was  gaining  ground,  when  the  young  man 
said,  "  Let  the  Oshau  shaw  go  min  un  (snake  berry)  spring  up  to  detain 
her,"  and  immediately  these  berries  spread  like  scarlet  all  over  the  path 
for  a  long  distance,  which  she  could  not  avoid  stooping  down  to  pick  and 
eat.  Still  she  went  on,  and  was  again  advancing  on  them,  when  the 
young  man  at  last,  said  to  the  dog,  "  Brother,  chew  her  into  mummy,  for 
she  plagues  us."  So  the  dog,  turning  round,  seized  her  and  tore  her  to 
pieces,  and  they  escaped. 


nj* 


"It 


Death  is  frightful,  or  welcome,  according  to  the  theories  men  have  of  it 
To  the  Indian,  it  is  a  pleasing  and  welcome  event.  He  believes  a  future 
state  to  be  one  of  rewards,  and  restitutions,  and  not  of  punishments. 

The  Indian  idea  of  paradise  is  the  idea  of  the  orientals.  It  consists  of 
sensualities,  not  spiritualities.  He  expects  the  scene  to  furnish  him  ease 
and  plenty.  Ease  and  plenty  make  the  Indian's  happiness  here,  and  his 
heaven  is  but  a  bright  transcript  of  his  earth. 

Paganism  and  idolatry,  require  more  mysteries  for  their  support  than 
Christianity.  The  Christian  has  but  one  God,  existing  in  three  hypostases. 
It  would  be  below  the  truth  to  say  that  the  Indian  has  one  hundred  thou- 
sand gods. 

The  Hindoos  icorahip  their  multiform  gods  of  the  earth,  air  and  sea. 
The  North  American  Indian  only  believes  in  them.  He  worships  the 
Great  Spirit. 

Wild  thoughts  are  often  bright  thoughts,  but  like  the  wild  leaps  of  a 
mountain  torrent,  they  are  evanescent  and  unequal.  We  are  dazzled 
by  a  single  figure  in  an  Indian  speech,  but  it  is  too  often  like  a  spark 
amid  a  shower  of  ashes. 


'^HE  FLIGHT  OF  THE  SHAWNEES  FROM 
THE  SOUTH. 

A    MOHEGAN   TRADITION. 

Metoxon  states,  that  the  Shavvnees  were,  in  ancient  times,  while  they 
lived  in  the  south,  defeated  by  a  confederacy  of  surrounding  tribes,  and  in 
danger  of  being  totally  cut  off  and  annihilated,  had  it  not  been  for  the  in- 
terference of  the  Mohegans  and  Dela wares.  An  alliance  between  them 
and  the  Mohegans,  happened  in  this  way.  Whilst  the  Mohegans  lived 
at  Schodack,  on  the  Hudson  river,  a  young  warrior  of  that  tribe  visited 
the  Shawnees,  at  their  southern  residence,  and  formed  a  close  friendship 
with  a  young  warrior  of  his  own  age.  They  became  as  brothers,  and 
vowed  for  ever  to  treat  each  other  as  such. 

The  Mohegan  warrior  had  returned,  and  been  some  years  living  with 
his  nation,  on  the  banks  of  the  Chatimac,  or  Hudson,  when  a  general  war 
broke  out  against  the  Shawnees.  The  restless  and  warlike  disposition  of 
this  tribe,  kept  them  constantly  embroiled  with  their  neighbours.  They 
were  unfaithful  to  their  treaties,  and  this  was  the  cause  of  perpetual  troubles 
and  wars.  At  length  the  nations  of  the  south  resolved,  by  a  general  ef- 
fort, to  rid  themselves  of  so  troublesome  a  people,  and  began  a  war,  in 
which  the  Shawnees  were  defeated,  battle  after  battle,  with  great  loss.  In 
this  emergency,  the  Mohegan  thought  of  his  Shawnee  brother,  and  re- 
solved to  rescue  him.  He  raised  a  war-party  and  being  joined  by  the  Le* 
napees,  since  called  Delawares,  they  marched  to  their  relief,  and  brought 
off  the  remnant  of  the  tribe  to  the  country  of  the  Lenapees.  Here  they 
were  put  under  the  charge  of  the  latter,  as  their  grandfather. 

They  were  now,  in  the  Indian  phrase,  put  between  their  grandllither's 
knees,  and  treated  as  little  children.  Their  hands  were  clasped  and  tied 
together — that  is  to  say,  they  were  taken  under  their  protection,  and 
formed  a  close  alliance.     But  still,  sometimes  the  child  would  creep  out 

104 


FLIGHT   OF   THE    SHAWNEES. 


105 


under  the  old  man's  legs,  and  get  into  trouble — implying  that  the  Shaw- 
nees  could  never  forget  their  warlike  propensities. 

Tiie  events  of  the  subsequent  history  of  this  tribe,  after  the  settlement 
of  America  are  well  known.  With  the  Lenapees,  or  Delawares,  they  mi- 
grated westward. 

Tiie  above  tradition  was  received  from  the  respectable  and  venrruble 
chief,  above  named,  in  1827,  during  the  negotiation  of  thctreaty  of  Duties 
dcs  Morh'j  on  Fox  river.  At  this  treaty  his  people,  bearing  the  modern 
name  of  Stockbridges,  were  present,  having,  within  a  few  years,  migrated 
from  their  former  position  in  Oneida  county,  New  York,  to  the  waters  of 
Fox  river,  in  Wisconsin. 

Metoxon  was  a  man  of  veracity,  and  of  reflective  and  temperate  habits, 
united  to  urbanity  of  manners,  and  estimable  qualities  of  head  and  heart, 
as  I  had  occasion  to  know  from  several  years'  acquaintance  with  him,  be- 
fore he,  and  his  people  went  from  Vernon  to  the  west,  as  well  as  after  he 
migrated  thither. 

The  tradition,  perhaps  with  the  natural  partiality  of  a  tribesman,  lays 
too  much  stress  upon  a  noble  and  generous  act  of  individual  and  tribal 
friendship,  but  is  not  inconsistant  with  other  relations,  of  the  early  south- 
ern position,  and  irrascible  temper  of  the  Shawnee  tribe.  Their  name  it- 
self, which  is  a  derivative  from  0-sha-wan-ong,  the  place  of  the  South,  is 
strong  presumptive  evidence  of  a  former  residence  in,  or  origin  from,  the 
extreme  south.  Mr.  John  Johnston,  who  was  for  many  years  the  govern- 
ment agent  of  this  tribe  at  Piqua,  in  Ohio,  traces  them,  in  an  article  in  the 
Archoelogia  Americana  (vol.  i,  p.  273)  to  the  Suwanee  river  in  Florida. 
Mr.  Gallatin,  in  the  second  volume  of  the  same  work  (p.  G.5)  points  out 
their  track,  from  historical  sources  of  undoubted  authority,  to  the  banks 
of  the  upper  Savannah,  in  Georgia  ;  but  remarks  that  they  have  only  been 
well  known  to  us  since  1680.  They  are  first  mentioned  in  our  scaUered 
Indian  annals,  by  De  Laet,  in  1632. 

It  may  further  be  said,  in  relation  to  Metoxon's  tradition,  that  there  is 
authority  for  asserting,  that  in  the  flight  of  the  Shawnees  from  the  south, 
a  part  of  them  descended  the  Kentucky  river  west,  to  the  Ohio  valley, 
where,  in  after  times,  the  Shawnees  of  Pennsylvania  and  New  Jersey, 
rather  formed  a  re-union  with  this  division  of  their  kindred  than  led  the 
way  for  them. 


To  depart  one  step  from  barbarism,  is  to  take  one  step  towards  civiliza- 
tion. To  abandon  the  lodge  of  bark — to  throw  aside  the  blanket — to  dis- 
continue the  use  of  paints — or  to  neglect  the  nocturnal  orgies  of  the  wa- 
beno,  are  as  certain  indications  of  incipient  civilization,  as  it  unquestion- 
ably is,  to  substitute  alphabetical  characters  for  rude  hieroglyphics,  or  to 
prefer  the  regular  cadences  of  the  gamut,  to  the  wild  chanting  of  the  chi- 
chigwun. 


I 


HT"' 


^  ii 


BOSH-KWADOSH, 


OK 


THE  QUADRUPED  WITH  THE  HAIR  BLOWN  OFF  ITS  SKIX. 

TiiniiE  was  once  a  man  who  found  himself  alone  in  the  world.  Ho 
knew  not  whence  ho  ciirne,  nor  who  wore  his  parents,  antl  he  wandered 
about  from  place  to  place,  in  search  of  something'.  At  last  he  became 
wearied  and  fell  asleep.  He  dreamed  that  he  heard  a  voice  saying, 
"  Nosis,"  that  is,  my  grandchild.  When  he  awoke  he  actually  heard 
the  word  repeated,  and  looking  oroimd,  he  saw  a  tiny  little  animal 
hardly  big  enough  to  be  seen  on  the  plain.  While  doubting  whether  the 
voice  could  come  from  such  a  diminutive  source,  the  little  animal  said  to 
him,  "  My  grandson,  you  will  call  me  Bosh-kwa-dosh.  Why  are  you  so 
desolate.  Listen  to  me,  and  you  shall  find  friends  and  be  happy. 
You  must  take  me  up  and  bind  me  to  your  body,  and  never  put  me 
aside,  and  success  in  life  shall  attend  you."  He  obeyed  the  voice,  sewing 
up  the  little  animal  in  the  folds  of  a  string,  or  narrow  belt,  which  he  tied 
around  his  body,  at  his  navel.  He  then  set  out  in  search  of  someone  like 
himself,  or  other  object.  He  walked  a  longtime  in  woods  without  seeing 
man  or  animal.  He  seemed  all  alone  in  the  world.  At  length  he  came 
to  a  place  where  a  stump  was  cut,  and  on  going  over  a  hill  he  descried  a 
large  town  in  a  plain.  A  wide  road  led  through  the  middle  of  it ;  but 
what  seemed  strange  was,  that  on  one  side  there  weie  no  itiliabitunts  in 
the  lodges,  while  the  other  side  was  thickly  inhabited.  He  walked  boldly 
into  the  town. 

The  inhabitants  came  out  and  said  ;  "  Why  here  is  the  being  we  have 
heard  so  much  of — here  is  Anisli-in-a-ba.  See  his  eyes,  and  ills  toclh  in 
a  half  circle — see  the  Wyaukenawbedaid  I  See  his  bowels,  how  they  are 
formed  ;" — for  it  seems  tlicy  could  look  through  him.  The  king's  son,  the 
Mudjekewis,  was  particularly  kind  to  him,  and  calling  him  brother-in-law, 
commanded  that  he  should  be  taken  to  his  father's  lodge  and  received  with 
attention.  The  king  gave  him  one  of  his  daughters,  'i'hcije  people, 
(who  are  supposed  to  be  human,  but  whose  rank  in  the  scale  of  being  is 
left  equivocal,)  passed  much  of  their  time  in  play  and  sports  and  trials  of 
various  kinds.     When  some  time  had  passed,  and  he  had  become  re 

106 


pr 

sicP 

md 

tii 


B08H-KWA-D0.SII. 


107 


freshed  and  rested,  ho  was  invited  to  join  in  tiiese  sports.  The  first  test 
which  they  put  him  to,  was  the  trial  of  frost.  At  some  distance  was  a 
larg'o  hody  of  frozen  water,  and  the  trial  consisted  in  lying  down  naked 
on  the  ice,  and  seeing  who  could  endure  the  longest.  lie  went  out  with 
two  young  men,  who  began,  l>y  pulling  ofT  their  garments,  and  lying 
down  on  their  faces.  He  did  likewisi^,  only  keeping  on  the  narrow  magic 
belt  with  the  tiny  little  animal  sewed  in  it ;  for  he  feh  that  in  this  alone  was 
to  lie  his  reliance  and  preservation.  Flis  c<.n!|)etitois  laughid  and  tittered 
during  the  early  part  of  the  night,  and  amused  themselves  by  thoughts  of 
his  fate.  Once  they  called  out  to  him,  but  he  made  no  reply.  He  felt  a 
manifest  warmth  given  out  by  hi.s  belt.  About  midnight  finding  they  were 
still,  he  called  out  to  them,  in  return, — ''  What!"  said  he,  "are  you  be- 
numbed already,  I  am  but  just  beginning  to  feel  a  little  cold."  All  was  si- 
lence. He,  however,  kept  his  position  till  early  day  break,  when  he  got 
up  and  went  to  them.  They  were  both  quite  dead,  and  frozen  so  hard, 
that  the  flesh  had  bursted  out  under  their  finger  nails,  and  their  teeth 
stood  out.  As  he  looked  more  closely,  what  was  his  surprise  to  find  them 
both  transformed  into  bufllilo  cows.  He  tied  them  together,  and  carried 
them  towards  the  village.  As  he  came  in  sight,  those  who  had  wished 
his  death  were  disappointed,  but  the  Mudjekewis,  who  was  really  his 
friend,  rejoiced.  "See!"  said  he  "  but  one  person  approaches, — it  is  my 
brother-in-law."  He  then  threw  down  the  carcasses  in  triumph,  but  it 
was  found  that  by  their  death  he  had  restored  two  inhabitants  to  the 
before  empty  lodges,  and  he  afterwards  perceived,  that  every  one  of  these 
beings,  whom  he  killed,  had  the  like  efl'ect,  so  that  the  depopulated  part 
of  the  village  soon  became  filled  with  people. 

The  next  test  they  put  him  to,  was  the  trial  of  speed.  He  was  chal- 
lenged to  the  race  ground,  and  began  his  career  with  one  whom  he 
thought  to  be  a  man  ;  but  every  thing  was  enchanted  here,  for  he  soon 
discovered  that  his  competitor  was  a  large  black  bear.  The  animal 
outran  him,  tore  up  the  ground,  and  sported  before  him,  and  put  out  its 
large  claws  as  if  to  frighten  him.  He  thought  of  his  little  guardian  spirit 
in  the  belt,  and  wishing  to  have  the  swiftness  of  the  Kakake,  i.  e. 
sparrow  hawk,  he  found  himself  rising  from  the  ground,  and  with 
llie  speed  of  this  bird  he  outwent  his  rival,  and  won  the  race,  while 
the  bear  came  up  exhausted  and  lolling  out  his  tongue.  His  friend  the 
Mudjekewis  stood  ready,  with  his  war-club,  at  the  goal,  and  the 
moment  the  bear  came  up,  dispatched  him.  He  then  turned  to  the 
assembly,  who  had  wished  his  friend  and  brother's  death,  and  after  re- 
proaching them,  he  lifted  up  his  club  and  began  to  slay  them  on  every 
side.  They  fell  in  heaps  on  all  sides;  but  it  was  plain  to  be  seen,  the 
moment  they  fell,  that  they  were  not  men,  but  animals, — foxes,  wolves, 
tigers,  lynxes,  and  other  kinds,  lay  thick  around  the  Mudjekewis. 

Still  the  villagers  were  not  satisfied.     They  thought  the  trial  of  frost, 


•: 


-.  1    ' 


:t 


.  ,i  , 


108 


B08H-KWA-D08H. 


had  not  bcon  fairly  accomplished,  nnd  wished  it  repeated.  Ho  agreed  to 
repnut  it,  but  being  fatiirned  with  the  rncc,  he  undid  his  gunrdinn  belt,  nnd 
laying  it  under  his  hcud,  fell  nsleep.  When  ho  awolte,  ho  felt  re- 
freshed, nnd  feeling  sliong  in  his  own  strength,  he  went  forward  to 
renew  the  trial  on  tiie  ice,  but  quite  forgot  tho  belt,  nor  did  it  at  all  occur 
to  him  when  he  awoke,  or  when  ho  lay  down  to  repent  the  trial. 
About  midnight  his  limbs  bec;une  stifT,  the  blood  soon  censed  to  circulate, 
nnd  he  was  found  in  the  morning,  a  stiff  corpse.  The  victors  took 
him  up  and  carried  him  to  tho  village,  where  tho  loudest  tumult  of  vic- 
torious joy  was  made,  and  they  cut  the  body  into  a  thousand  pieces,  that 
each  one  might  eat  a  piece. 

Tho  Mudjekowis  bemoaned  his  fate,  but  his  wife  wns  inconsolable.  She 
lay  in  a  state  of  partial  distraction,  in  tho  lodge.  As  she  lay  here,  she 
thought  she  heard  some  one  groaning.  It  wns  repeated  through  the  night, 
and  in  the  morning,  she  carefully  scanned  the  place,  and  running  her  fingers 
through  the  grass,  she  discovered  the  secret  belt,  on  the  spot  where  her  hus- 
band had  last  reposed.  "  Aiibishin  !"  cried  the  belt — that  is,  untie  me,  or 
unloose  me.  Looking  carefully,  she  found  the  small  seam  which  enclosed 
the  tiny  little  animal.  It  cried  out  the  more  earnestly  "Aubishin!"  and 
when  she  had  carefully  ripped  the  seams,  she  beheld,  to  her  surprise,  a  mi- 
nute, naked  little  beast,  smaller  than  the  sm.illest  new  born  mouse,  without 
any  vestige  of  hair,  e.Kcept  at  the  tip  of  its  tail,  it  could  crawl  a  few  inches, 
but  reposed  from  fatigue.  It  then  went  forward  again.  At  each  movement 
it  would  pupoiree,  that  is  to  say,  shake  itself,  like  a  dog,  nnd  at  each  shake  it 
becnme  larger.  This  it  continued  until  it  acquired  the  strength  and  size  of 
a  middle  sized  dog,  when  it  ran  off! 

The  mysterious  dog  ran  to  the  lodges,  about  the  village,  looking  for  tho 
bones  of  his  friend,  which  he  carried  to  a  secret  place,  and  ns  fast  as  he 
found  them  arranged  all  in  their  natural  order.  At  length  he  had  formed  nil 
tho  skeleton  complete,  e.vcept  the  heel  bone  of  one  foot.  It  so  happened  that 
two  sisters  were  out  of  the  camp,  according  to  custom,  nt  the  tiiue  the  body 
was  cut  up,  and  this  heel  was  sent  out  to  them.  The  dog  hunted  every 
lodge,  and  being  satisfied  that  it  was  not  to  be  found  in  tho  camp,  he  sought 
it  outside  of  it,  and  found  the  lodge  of  the  two  sisters.  The  younger  sis^ttr 
was  pleased  to  see  him,  and  admired  and  patted  the  pretty  dog,  but  the  elder 
sat  mumbling  the  very  heel-bone  ho  was  seeking,  and  was  suily  and  sour, 
and  repelled  the  dog,  although  he  looked  most  wistfully  up  in  her  face, 
while  she  sucked  the  bone  from  one  side  of  her  mouth  to  the  other.  At  last 
she  held  it  in  such  a  manner  that  it  made  her  cheek  stick  out,  when  the  dog, 
by  a  quick  spring,  seized  the  cheek,  and  tore  cheek  and  bone  away  and 
fled. 

He  now  completed  the  skeleton,  and  placing  himself  before  it,  uttered  a 
hollow,  low,  long-drawn-out-howl,  when  the  bones  came  compactly  toge- 
ther.     He  then  modulated  his  howl,  when  the  bones  knit  together  and 


DOSa-KWADOSII. 


IM 


became  lonsp.  The  tliinJ  lunvl  l.roiii-lit  sinews  upon  »hpm,nnil  tlm  fourth, 
fleali.  He  then  turned  liis  lead  npwurds,  li)uking  into  the  sky,  nnd  gnvo 
a  howl,  wliii'h  caused  every  om.'  n  the  villu^/  In  startle,  nnd  the  ),'round 
itself  totreinhle,  lit  which  tlx:  imaiii  entered  into  his  hody,  nnd  he  first 
breiithed  nnd  then  nrosc.  '•  Hy  kow!"  I  have  overslept  myself,  ho 
excliiinied,  "  I  will  he  loo  lato  for  the  trial.'  "Trial !"  said  the  dog,  "  I  told 
you  never  to  let  ine  be  separate  from  your  body,  you  have  neglected  this. 
You  were  defeated,  and  your  frozen  liody  cut  into  n  thousand  pieces,  nnd 
scattered  over  the  village,  but  my  skill  has  restored  you.  Now  I  will  de- 
clare myself  to  you,  and  show  who  and  what  I  am  I" 

He  then  began  to  iti-owkk,  ur  shake  himself,  and  at  every  shake,  ho 
grew.  His  body  became  heavy  and  massy,  his  l"gs  thick  and  long,  with 
big  clumsy  ends,  or  feet.  He  still  shook  himself,  and  rose  and  swelled. 
A  long  snout  grew  from  his  head,  nnd  two  great  shining  teeth  out  of  his 
mouth.  His  skin  remained  as  it  was,  naked,  nnd  only  a  tuft  of  hair 
grew  on  his  tail.  Ho  rose  up  above  the  trees.  He  was  enormous.  "I 
should  fill  the  earth,"  said  he,  "  were  I  to  exert  my  utmost  power,  nnd  all 
there  is  on  the  earth  would  not  sntisfy  me  to  ent.  Neither  could  it  fntten 
me  or  do  me  good.  1  should  wnnt  more.  It  were  useless,  therefore,  nnd 
the  gift  I  have,  I  will  bestow  on  you.  The  animals  shall  henceforth  be 
your  food.  They  were  not  designed  to  feed  on  man,  neither  shall  they 
hereafter  do  it,  but  shall  feed  him,  and  he  only  shall  prey  on  beasts.  But 
you  will  respect  me,  and  not  ent  my  kind. 

[The  preceding  ia  a  traditionury  tulo  of  Muidosegee,  an  aged  and  respected  hunter, 
of  Sualt-ste-Muirio,  who  vvua  the  ruling  chief  of  tiio  band  of  Chippewas  ut  those  fulls, 
and  the  progenitor  of  the  present  line  of  ruling  chiefs.  It  is  preserved  through  the 
Johnston  family,  where  he  was  a  frequent  guest,  prior  to  1810,  and  was  h«i)py  to  while 
uwiiy  many  of  his  winter's  eveniiigf<i  in  return  for  the  ready  hospitaUties  which  were 
sure  to  await  him  at  the  house  of  the  Indian's  friend.] 


MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONG, 

OR 

THE  TRADITIONARY  STORY  OF  THE  RED  HEAD  AND  HIS 

TWO  SONS.  V 


BY    NABINOI,    AN    AOI'.I)    ODJinWA    ClIIRF. 


Masii-kwa-siia-kwong,  was  a  first  rate  hunter,  nnd  he  loved  the  chase 
exceedingly,  and  pursued  it  with  unceasing  vigilance.  One  day,  on  hia 
return  home,  arriving  at  his  lodge,  he  was  informed  by  his  two  sons,  who 
were  but  small  then,  that  they  were  very  lonesome,  because  their  mother 
was  in  the  habit  of  daily  leaving  them  alone,  and  this  occurred  so  soon  as 


110 


MA?H-K\VA-SHA-KWONG. 


he  startori  upon  his  daily  cliasc.  This  ciiciiiiislancc  was  not  unknown  to 
Mii?:h-k\va-5ha-].\vong,  liiit  lie  sccmetl  fully  aware  of  it;  lie  took  liis  boys 
in  his  arms  rind  kis.-ed  them,  and  told  them  that  their  mother  behaved 
improperly  and  was  acting  the  part  of  a  wicked  and  faithless  \soman. 
But  IMiish-kwa-sha-kwong  behaved  towards  his  wife  as  if  ignorant  of  her 
vile  course.  One  morning  rising  very  early,  he  told  his  sons  to  take  cou- 
rage, and  that  they  nuist  not  be  lonesome,  he  also  strictly  enjoined  ihein 
not  to  absent  themselves  nor  cpiit  their  lodge ;  after  this  injunction  uas 
given  to  the  boys,  he  made  preparations,  and  starting  much  earlier  than 
usual,  he  travelled  but  a  short  distance  from  his  lodge,  when  he  halted  and 
secreted  himself  After  waiting  a  siiort  time,  he  saw  his  wife  coming  out 
of  their  lodge,  and  immediately  after  a  man  made  his  appearance  and 
jnecting  Mash-kwa-sha-kwong's  wife,  they  greeted  one  another.  His 
suspicions  were  now  confirmed,  and  when  he  saw  them  in  the  act  of  car- 
rying on  an  illegal  intercourse,  his  anger  arose,  he  went  up  to  them  and 
killed  them  with  one  blow  ;  he  then  dragged  them  both  to  his  lodge,  and 
tying  them  together,  he  dug  a  hole  beneath  the  fire-place  in  liis  lodge  and 
buried  them.  He  then  told  his  sons  that  it  was  necessary  that  he  should 
go  away,  as  he  would  surely  be  killed  if  he  remained,  and  their  safety 
would  depend  upon  their  ability  of  keeping  the  matter  a  secret.  He  gave 
his  eldest  son  a  small  bird,  (Kichig-e  chig-aw-na-she)  to  roast  for  his  small 
brother  over  the  ashes  and  embers  where  their  mother  was  buried,  he  also 
provided  a  small  leather  bag,  and  then  told  his  sons  the  necessity  of  his  im- 
mediate flight  to  heaven,  or  to  the  skies.  And  that  it  would  be  expedient 
for  them  to  fly  and  journey  southward,  and  thus  prepared  their  minds  for 
the  separation  about  to  take  pl.ice.  "  By  and  bye,"  said  ]\ldsh-kwa-shi'.- 
kwong  to  his  sons,  "persons  will  come  to  you  and  enquire  for  me  and  for 
your  mother,  you  will  say  to  them  that  I  am  gone  hunting,  and  your  little 
brother  in  the  iriean  time  will  continually  jioint  to  the  fire  place,  this  will 
lead  the  persons  to  whom  I  allude,  to  make  inquiries  of  the  cause  of  this 
pointing,  and  you  will  tell  them  that  you  have  a  little  bird  roasting  for 
your  brother,  this  will  cause  them  to  desist  from  further  inquiry  at  the 
time.  As  soon  as  they  arc  gon<!  escape!  While  you  are  journcynig 
agreeably  to  my  instructions,  I  will  look  from  on  high  upon  you,  I  will 
lead  and  coniluct  you.  and  you  sivill  Ii(Mr  my  voice  from  day  to  d;iy." 
Mash-kwa-sha-kwong  at  thi.«  time  gave  his  sons  an  awl,  a  heaver'.'^-  tooth, 
and  a  hone,  also  a  dry  coal,  and  directed  them  to  place  a  small  piece  of 
the  coal  on  the  ground  every  evening,  so  soon  as  they  should  encamp, 
from  which  fire  would  be  produced  and  given  to  them;  he  told  his  eldest 
son  to  place  his  brother  in  the  leather  bag,  and  in  that  manner  carry  him 
upon  his  back  ;  he  then  bade  them  farewell. 

The  two  boys  being  thus  left  alone  in  the  lodge,  and  while  in  the  act 
of  roasting  the  little  bird  provided  for  them,  a  man  came  in,  and  then 
another,  and  another,  unti 


py 


y^ 


MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONO. 


Hi 


ry 


liiin 


tlio  act 
■ul  then 
[(.'St  boy 


would  fiom  time  to  time  point  at  the  iiie,  and  tlie  men  enquired  to  know 
tlie  ix'usun,  the  tldciit  boy  suid  that  lie  was  loastinjj;  a  bird  ibr  his  brother, 
and  digging  the  uslaa  produced  it.  They  enquired,  where  their 
fatiier  and  nioliier  were,  the  boy  answered  them  saying,  that  their  futiier 
was  absent  hunting,  and  tiial  their  muiiier  had  gone  to  chop  and  collect 
wood  ;  upon  this  information  the  men  rose  and  searched  around  the  oul- 
skiits  ol'  the  lodge,  endeavouring  to  iind  traces  of  the  man  and  his  wife, 
but  they  were  not  successful,  and  returned  to  the  lodge.  Before  this,  how- 
ever, and  during  the  absence  of  the  ten  men,  Miish-kwa--sha-kwong's 
eldest  son  placed  his  little  brother  in  the  leather  bag,  (Ouskemood,)  and  ran 
away  southward. 

One  of  the  ten  men  observed,  that  the  smallest  boy  had  repeatedly 
pointed  to  the  (ire  place,  and  that  they  might  find  out  something  by  dig- 
ging; they  set  to  work,  and  found  the  woman  and  the  man  tied  together. 
On  this  discovery  their  wrath  was  kindled,  they  brandished  their  weapons, 
denouncing  imperealions  upon  IVIilsh-kwa-sha-kwnng,  who  was  of  course 
suspected  of  having  committed  the  deed. 

The  ten  men  again  renewed  their  search  in  order  to  avenge  themselves 
uj)on  tlie  perpetrator  of  this  dark  deed,  but  Miish-kwa-sha-kwong,  in  order 
to  avoid  instant  death,  had  sought  a  large  hollow  tree,  and  entering  at  the 
bottom  or  root  part,  passed  through  and  reached  the  top  of  it,  from  whence 
he  took  his  llight  upwards  to  the  sky.  His  pursuers  linally  traced  him, 
and  foUuvved  liini  as  far  as  the  tree,  and  into  the  sky,  with  loud  and  un- 
ceasing impercations  of  revenge  and  their  determination  to  kill  him.  The 
spirit  of  the  mother  alone  followed  her  ciiildren.  About  mid-day  the 
boys  heard,  as  they  ran,  a  noise  in  the  heavens  like  the  rolling  of  distant 
thunder.*  The  boys  continued  their  journey  south,  when  the  noiso 
ceased  ;  towards  night  they  encamped  ;  they  put  a  small  piece  of  the  coal 
on  the  ground,  then  a  log  of  fire-wood  was  dropped  down  from  the 
skies  to  thein,  from  whence  a  good  blazing  fire  was  kindled.  This  was 
done  daily,  and  when  the  fire  was  lit,  a  raccoon  would  fall  from  on  high 
upon  the  lir';,  and  in  this  manner  the  boys  were  fed,  and  this  over-ruling 
care  they  e  tperienced  daily.  In  the  evenings  at  their  camping  place, 
and  soinetir.,es  during  the  day,  the  Red  Head's  voice  was  heard  speaking 
to  his  ciiildren,  and  encouraging  them  to  use  their  utmost  exeitions  to  fly 
from  the  pursuit  of  their  mother.  To  aid  them  in  escaping,  they  were 
told  to  throw  away  their  awl,  and  immediately  there  grew  a  strong  and 
almost  inipas-.s;ible  hedge  of  tiiorii  bushes  behind  thcni,  in  tiieir  path,  which 
the  pursuing  mother  could  scarcely  penetrate,  and  thus  impeding  her  pro- 

•  Note  by  Mr.  (Jeortrc  Johnston,  from  wlioni  this  tale  was  received. — Any  thing  of 
ihi'  ki;i(l,  or  ;i  siiiiil;ir  noiso  ln'iird.  is  siltrihntcd  liy  tin'  Indiiin,  to  tiiis  day,  ii.s  an  indlcu- 
tiun  (if  ('.I' (■i.iilt'iilii>ii  hi  iwfiui  Mii.-h-liw.i-siia-liwoiii;  iiiid  liia  pursuers,  and  licncu  a 
[irclui'e  to  \\-.\r.-;  umiI  coiitciilions  anioii^  (ho  Millions  of  tlie  world. 


m 


4tt 


)t. 


i>».  t.immfi'fmm 


112 


MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONG, 


gress,  tearing  away  her  whole  body  and  leaving  nothing  but  the  head 
So  they  escaped  the  first  day. 

The  next  day  they  resumed  their  march  and  could  distinctly  hear  the 
noise  of  combat  in  the  sky,  as  if  it  were  a  roaring  thunder ;  they  also 
heard  the  voice  of  their  mother  behind  them,  desiring  her  eldest  son  to 
stop  and  wait  for  iier,  saying  that  she  wished  to  give  the  breast  to  his 
brother ;  then  again  Musli-kwa-sha-kwong's  voice,  encouraging  his  sons  to 
fly  for  their  lives,  and  saying  that  if  their  mother  overtook  them  she  would 
surely  kill  them. 

In  the  evening  of  the  second  day  the  boys  prepared  to  encamp,  and  the 
noise  of  combat  on  high  ceased  ;  on  placing  a  small  piece  of  the  coal  on 
the  ground,  a  log  and  some  fire-wood  was  let  down  as  on  the  preceding 
night,  and  the  fire  was  kindled,  and  then  the  raccoon  placed  on  it  for 
thei.'  food.  This  was  fulfilling  the  promise  made  by  their  father,  that  they 
would  be  provided  for  during  their  flight.  The  beaver's  tooth  was  here 
thrown  away,  and  this  is  the  cause  why  the  northern  country  now  abounds 
with  beaver,  and  also  the  innumerable  little  lakes  and  marshes,  and  con- 
sequently the  rugged  and  tedious  travelling  now  experienced. 

On  the  third  day  the  boys  resumed  their  flight,  and  threw  away  their 
hone,  and  it  became  a  high  rocky  mountainous  ridge,  the  same  now  seen 
on  the  north  shore  of  these  straits,  (St.  Mary's)  which  was  a  great  obstacle 
in  the  way  of  the  woman  of  the  Head,  for  this  was  now  her  name,  be- 
cause that  part  alone  remained  of  her  whole  frame,  and  with  it  she  was 
incessantly  uttering  determinations  to  kill  her  eldest  son  ;  the  boys  finally 
reached  the  fishing  pi  ice  known  as  the  eddy  of  Wah-zah-zhawing,  at  the 
rapids  of  Bawating,  siiuated  on  the  north  shore  of  the  river.  Here  Miish- 
kwa-sha-kwong,  told  his  sons  that  he  had  himself  been  overtaken  in  his 
flight  by  his  pursuers  and  killed,  and  he  appeared  to  them  in  the  shape  of 
a  red  headed  wood-pecker,  or  a  mama.  This  is  a  bird  that  is  seldom  or 
never  attacked  by  birds  of  prey,  for  no  vestiges  of  his  remains  are  ever  seen 
or  found  by  the  Indian  hunter.  "  Now  my  sons,"  said  the  red  headed 
wood-pecker,  "I  have  brought  you  to  this  river,  you  will  now  see  your 
grand  father  and  he  will  convey  you  across  to  the  opposite  side."  Then 
the  boys  looked  to  the  southern  shore  of  the  river,  and  they  saw  in  the 
middle  of  the  rapid,  an  OsirrGtJAY  standing  on  a  rock  ;  to  the  Oshuggay 
the  boys  spoke,  and  accosted  him  as  their  grand  father,  requesting  him 
to  carry  them  across  the  river  Bawating.  The  Oshuggay  stretching  his 
long  neck  over  the  river  to  the  place  where  the  boys  stood,  told  them  to 
get  upon  his  head  and  neck,  and  again  stretching  to  the  southern  shore, 
he  landed  the  boys  in  safety,  upon  a  prairie :  the  crane  was  seen  walking 
in  state,  up  and  d-own  the  prairie. 

The  persevering  mother  soon  arrived  at  Wah-zah-hawing,  and  im- 
mediately requested  the  Oshuggay  to  cross  her  over,  that  she  was  in  pur- 


ir 

sti 


it 


MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONO. 


113 


suit  of  her  children  and  stating  that  she  wished  to  overtake  them  ;  but  the 
Oshuggay  seemed  well  aware  of  her  character,  and  objected  to  conveying 
her  across,  giving  her  to  understand  that  she  was  a  lewd  and  bad  wo- 
man ;  he  continued  giving  her  a  long  moral  lecture  upon  the  course  she 
had  pursued  and  the  bad  results  to  mankind  in  consequence,  such  as 
quarrels,  murders,  deaths,  and  hence  widowhood. 

The  woman  of  the  Head  persisted  in  her  request  of  being  conveyed 
across.  Oljcctions  and  entreaties  followed.  She  talked  as  if  she  were  still 
a  woman,  whose  favour  was  to  be  sought;  and  he,  as  if  he  were  above 
such  favours.  After  this  dialogue  the  Oshuggay  said  that  he  would 
convty  her  across,  on  the  condition  that  she  would  adhere  strictly  to 
his  injimctions  ;  he  told  her  not  to  touch  the  bare  piut  of  his  head,  but  to 
get  upon  the  hollow  or  crooked  part  of  his  neck  ;  to  this  she  agreed,  and 
got  on.  The  Oshuggay  then  withdrew  his  long  neck  to  about  half  way 
across,  when  feeling  that  she  had  forgotten  her  pledge  he  dashed  her  head 
upon  the  rocks,  and  the  small  fish,  that  were  so  abundan,'  instantly  fed 
upon  the  brain  and  fragments  of  the  skull  and  became  large  white  fish. 
"A  fish"  said  the  Oshuggay,  "that  from  this  time  forth  shall  be  abimdant, 
and  remain  in  these  rapids  to  feed  the  Indians  and  their  issue,  from  ge  era 
tion  to  generation."* 

After  this  transaction  of  the  Oshuggay's,  landing  the  boys  safely  across, 
and  dashing  the  woman's  head  upon  the  rocks,  he  spake  to  the  Crane  and 
mutually  consulting  one  another  in  relation  to  Mcishkwa-sha-kwong's  sons 
they  agreed  to  invite  two  women  from  the  eastward,  of  the  ti  ibe  of  the  W.ts- 
SI6SIC.,  and  the  two  lads  took  them  for  wives.  The  Oshuggay  plucked  one 
of  his  largest  wing  feathers  and  gave  it  to  the  eldest  boy,  and  the  Crane 
likewise  did  the  same,  giving  his  feathers  to  the  youngest ;  they  were  told 
to  consider  the  feathers  as  their  sons  after  this,  one  feather  appeared  like 
an  Oshuggay  and  the  other  like  a  young  Crane.  By  and  by  they  appeared 
like  human  beings  to  the  lads.  Thus  the  alliance  was  formed  with  the  Was- 
sissig,  and  the  circumstance  of  the  Oshuggay  and  Crane  interesting  them- 
selves in  behalf  of  the  boys  and  the  gift  to  them  of  their  feathers  and  the 
result,  is  the  origin  of  the  Indian  Totem. 

Here  Milsh-kwa-sha-kwong's  sons  were  told  that  they  would  be  con- 
sideied  as  chieftains  and  that  this  office  would  be  hereditary  and  continue 
in  their  generations.  After  this,  they  multiplied  e.xceedingly  and  became 
strong  and  powerful.  About  this  time  the  Obinangoes,  (or  the  Bears' 
Totem)  came  down  from  Shaugah-wah-mickong,  near  the  e.vtreniily  of 
Lake  Superior.  On  their  way  eastward  they  were  surprised  on  reaching 
Bawating  to  find  such  a  numerous  population  of  human  beings :  they  were 


if, 

'■A  '! 


•  The  small  white  shells  that  the  white  fish  live  upon,  and  the  wliite  substance  found 
iu  its  gizzard  arc  to  this  day  considered  by  the  Indians,  tlie  brain  and  skull  ol'  the  wumon 
of  tlio  Head. 

8 


M' 


114 


MASH-KWA-SHA-KWONQ. 


iH  I 


not  aware  of  its  oeing  in  existence  ;  fear  came  upon  the  Obinangoes,  and 
they  devised  tiie  plan  of  securing  friendship  with  the  Oshuggays  and 
Cranes,  by  adopting  and  claiming  a  relationship  with  them,  and  calling 
them  their  grandsons.  This  claim  was  yielded,  and  they  wore  permitted  to 
remain  at  Bawailing  upon  the  score  of  relationship  thus  happily  attained. 
The  Obonangocs  eventually  emigrated  eastward  and  settled  upon  the 
northern  coast  of  Lakes  Huron  and  Ontario. 

Population  increased  so  rapidly  at  Bawaiting,  that  it  was  necessary  to 
form  new  villages,  some  settling  on  the  Garden  River,  some  upon  the 
Pakaysaugauegan  River,  and  others  upon  the  island  of  St.  Joseph's,  and 
upon  the  Menashkong  Bay  and  Mashkotay  Saugie  River. 

About  this  time,  a  person  in  the  shape  of  a  human  being  came  down 
from  the  sky ;  his  clothing  was  exceedingly  pure  and  white ;  he  was  seated 
as  it  were  in  a  nest,  with  a  very  fine  cord  attached  to  it,  by  which  this 
mysterious  person  was  let  down,  and  the  cord  or  string  reached  heaven. 
He  addressed  the  Indians  in  a  very  humane,  mild,  and  compasionate  tone, 
saying  that  they  were  very  poor  and  needy,  but  telling  them  that  they 
were  perpetually  asleep,  and  this  was  caused  by  the  Mache  Monedo  who 
was  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  leading  them  to  death  and  ruin. 

This  mysterious  personage  informed  thorn  also  that  above,  where  h-e 
came  from,  there  was  no  night,  that  the  inhabitants  never  slept,  that  it  waa 
perpetually  day  and  they  required  no  sleep  ;  that  Kezha  IVlonedo  was  their 
light.  He  then  invited  four  of  the  Indians  to  ascend  up  with  him  promis- 
ing that  they  would  be  brought  back  in  safety ;  that  an  opportunity  would 
thereby  present  itself  to  view  the  beauty  of  the  sky,  or  heavens.  But  the 
Indians  doubted  and  feared  lest  the  cord  should  break,  because  it  appeared 
to  them  so  small.  They  did  not  believe  it  possible  it  could  bear  their 
weight.  With  this  objection  they  excused  themselves.  They  were,  however 
again  assured  that  ths  cord  was  sufficiently  strong  and  that  Kezha  Monedo 
had  the  power  to  make  it  so.  Yet  the  Indians  doubted  and  feared,  and 
did  not  accompany  the  messenger  sent  down  to  them.  After  tliLs  re- 
fusal the  my.sterious  person  produced  a  small  bow  and  arrows  with  which 
he  shot  at  the  Indians  in  difli'rent  parts  of  their  bodies:  the  result  was, 
»he  killing  of  multitwdes  of  small  white  worms,  which  ho  show.'d  to  them  ; 
telling  them  that  they  were  the  M.iclie  Monedo  which  caused  tlieiii  to 
sleep,  an;4  j)revented  their  awakening  from  their  rleatli-like  state 

This  divine  messenger  then  gave  to  the  Indians  laws  and  rules,  where- 
by they  should  be  guided:  first,  to  love  and  fear  Kezha  Monedo,  and  next 
that  they  must  love  one  another,  and  be  charitable  and  ho.^pjtable  :  and 
finally,  thiit  they  must  not  covet  their  neighbours  property,  but  ac(|uire  it 
by  labour  and  honest  industry.  He  then  instituted  the  grand  medicine  or 
metay  we  win  dance:  this  ceremony  was  to  be  observed  annually,  and 
with  due  solemnity,  and  the  Indians,  said  Nabirioi,  experienced  miicli  good 
from  it ;  but  unfortunately,  the  foolish  young  men  were  cheated  by  Mache 


I 


MASH-KWA-SHA.KAVONQ. 


116 


Moncdo,  who  caused  them  to  adopt  the  Wabano  dance  and  its  ceremonies. 
This  latter  is  decidedly  an  institution  of  the  sagemaus,  or  evil  spirits, 
and  this  was  finallj'  introduced  into  the  inetay  we  wining,  (i.  e.  medicine 
dance)  and  thereby  corrupted  it. 

The  old  chief  continued  his  moral  strain  thus:  While  the  Indians  were 
instructed  by  the  heavenly  messenger  they  were  told  that  it  would  snow 
continually  for  the  space  of  five  years,  winter  and  summer,  and  the  end 
would  then  be  nigh  at  hand  ;  and  again  that  it  would  rain  incessantly  as 
many  winters  and  summers  more,  wiiich  would  cause  the  waters  to  rise  and 
overflow  the  earth,  destroying  trees  and  all  manner  of  vegetation.  After 
this,  ten  winters  and  summers  of  drought  would  follow,  drying  up  the 
land,  and  mostly  the  lakes  and  rivers  ;  not  a  cloud  would  be  seen  during 
this  period.  The  earth  would  become  so  dry,  that  it  will  then  burn  up  with 
tire  of  itself,  and  it  will  also  burn  the  waters  to  a  certain  depth,  until  it  at- 
tains the  first  created  earth  and  waters.  Then  the  good  Indians  will  rise 
from  death  to  enjoy  a  new  earth,  filled  with  an  abundance  of  all  manner 
of  living  creatures.  The  only  animal  which  will  not  be  seen  is  the  beaver 
'J'he  b;id  Indians  will  not  enjoy  any  portion  of  the  new  earth  ;  they  will  be 
condemned  and  given  to  the  evil  spirits. 

Four  generations,  he  went  on  to  say,  have  now  passed  away,  since  that 
brotherly  love  and  charity,  formerly  known,  still  existed  among  the  In- 
dians. There  was  in  those  ancient  times  an  annual  meeting  among  the  In- 
dians, resembling  the  French  New  Year's  Day,  which  was  generally  ob- 
served on  the  new  moon's  first  appearance,  Gitchy  Monedo  gesus.  The 
Indians  of  our  village  would  visit  these  of  another,  and  sometimes  meet 
one  another  dancing;  and  on  those  occasions  they  would  exchange  bows 
and  arrows,  their  rude  axes,  .awls,  and  kettles,  and  their  clothing.  This 
was  an  annual  festival,  which  was  duly  observed  by  them.  In  those 
days  the  Indians  lived  happy;  but  every  thing  is  now  changed  to  the  In- 
dian mind,  indicating  the  drawing  near  and  approach  of  the  end  of  time. 
The  Indians  who  still  adhere  to  the  laws  of  the  heavenly  messenger  ex- 
perience happiness ;  and,  on  the  contrary,  concluded  the  old  man,  those 
who  arc  wicked  and  adhere  to  the  Wabano  institution,  generally  meet 
with  lh<>ir  reward;  and  it  is  singular  to  say  that  they  generally  come 
to  their  end  by  accidents,  such  as  drowning,  or  miserable  deaths. 

He  then  reverted  to  the  former  part  of  his  story.  The  Osliuggays,  and 
the  Cranes  quarrelled,  and  this  quarrel  commenced  on  a  trivial  point.  It 
appears  that  the  Cranes  look  a  pole,  without  leave,  from  the  t Jshuggays, 
and  they  broke  the  pole ;  this  circumstance  led  to  a  separation.  The 
Oshuggays  eraii^rated  south,  and  are  now  known  as  the  Shawnees. 


WA-WA-BEZO-WIN, 


Oft 


THE  SWING  ON  THE  LAKE  SHORE. 


rROM  THE   TRADITIONS  OP   THE   ODJIBWAB. 


There  was  an  old  ha]^  of  a  woman  living  with  her  daughter-in-law 
ond  son,  and  a  little  orphan  boy,  whom  she  was  bringing  up.  When 
her  son-in-law  came  home  fioin  hunting,  it  was  his  custom  to  bring 
his  wife  the  moose's  lip,  the  kidney  of  the  bear,  or  some  other  choice 
bits  of  different  animals.  These  she  would  cook  crisp,  so  as  to  make  a 
sound  with  her  teeth  in  eating  them.  This  kind  attention  of  the  hunter 
to  his  wife,  at  last,  excited  the  envy  of  the  old  woman.  She  wished 
to  have  the  same  luxuries,  and  in  order  to  get  them  she  finally  resolved  to 
make  way  with  her  son's  wife.  One  day,  she  asked  her  to  leave  her  in- 
fant son  to  the  care  of  the  orphan  boy,  and  come  out  and  swing  with 
her.  She  took  her  to  the  shore  of  a  lake,  where  there  was  a  high  range 
of  rocks  overhanging  the  water.  Upon  the  top  of  this  rock,  she  erected 
a  swing.  She  then  undressed,  and  fastened  a  piece  of  leather  around  her 
body,  and  commenced  swinging,  going  over  the  precipice  at  every  swing. 
She  continued  it  but  a  short  time,  when  she  told  her  daughter  to  do  the 
same.  The  daughter  obeyed.  She  undressed,  and  tying  the  leather 
string  as  she  was  directed,  began  swinging.  When  the  swing  had  got 
in  full  motion  and  well  a  going,  so  that  it  went  clear  beyond  the  precipice, 
at  every  sweep,  the  old  woman  slyly  cut  the  cords  and  let  her  daughter 
drop  into  the  lake.  She  then  put  on  her  daughter's  clothing,  and  thus  dis- 
guised went  home  in  the  dusk  of  the  evening  and  counterfeited  her  ap- 
pearance and  duties.  She  found  the  child  crying,  and  gave  it  the  breast, 
but  it  would  not  draw.  The  orphan  boy  asked  her  where  its  mother  was. 
She  answered,  "  She  is  still  swinging."  He  said,  "I  shall  go  and  look 
for  her."  "  No  !"  said  she,  "  you  muist  not — what  shoukl  you  go  for  ?'' 
Wiu'n  the  husband  came  in,  in  the  evening,  he  gave  the  coveted  morsel 
to  his  supposed  wife.  He  missed  his  mother-in  law,  but  said  nothing. 
She  eagi'vly  ate  the  dainty,  and  tried  to  keep  the  child  still.  The  hus- 
band looked  rather  astonished  to  see  his  wife  studiously  averting  hrr  "i."^, 
and  asked  her  why  the  child  cried  so.  She  said,  she  did  not  know — ihat 
^t  would  not  draw. 

In  the  meantime  the  orphan  boy  went  to  the  lake  shores,  and  found  no 
one.  He  mentioned  his  suspicion?,  and  while  the  old  woman  w.'is  out 
getting  wood,  he  told  him  all  that  he  had  heard  or  seen.     The  tnnn  then 

116 


WA-WA-BE-ZO-WIN, 


117 


painted  his  face  black,  and  placed  his  spear  upside  down  in  the  earth  and 
requested  the  Great  Spirit  to  send  lightning,  thunder,  and  rain,  in  the 
hope  that  the  body  of  his  wife  might  arise  from  the  water.  He  then 
began  to  fast,  and  told  the  boy  to  take  the  child  and  play  on  the  lake 
shore. 

We  must  now  go  back  to  the  swing.  After  the  wife  had  plunged  into 
.he  lakf,  she  found  herself  taken  hold  of  by  a  water  tiger,  whose  tail 
twisted  itself  round  her  body,  and  drew  her  to  the  bottom.  There  she 
found  a  fine  lodge,  and  all  things  ready  for  her  reception,  and  she  became 
;he  wife  of  the  water  tiger.  Whilst  the  children  were  playing  along  the 
shore,  and  the  boy  was  casting  pebbles  into  the  lake,  he  saw  a  gull  com- 
ing from  its  centre,  and  flying  towards  the  shore,  and  when  on  shore,  the 
bird  immediately  assumed  the  hiunan  shape.  When  he  looked  again  he 
recognized  the  lost  mother.  She  had  a  leather  belt  around  her  loins,  and 
another  belt  of  white  metal,  which  was,  in  reality,  the  tail  of  the  water 
tiger,  her  husband.  She  suckled  the  babe,  and  said  to  the  boy — "  Come 
here  with  him,  whenever  he  cries,  and  I  will  nurse  him." 

The  boy  carried  the  child  home,  and  told  these  things  to  the  father. 
When  the  child  again  cried,  the  father  went  also  with  the  boy  to  the 
lake  shore,  and  hid  himself  in  a  clump  of  trees.  Soon  the  appearance 
of  a  gull  was  seen,  with  u  long  shining  belt,  or  chain,  and  as  soon  as  it 
came  to  the  shore,  h  assumed  the  mother's  shape,  and  began  to  suckle  the 
child.  The  husband  had  brought  along  his  spear,  and  seeing  the  shining 
chain,  he  boldly  struck  it  and  broke  the  links  apart.  He  then  took  his 
wife  and  child  home,  with  the  orphan  boy.  When  they  entered  the 
lodge,  the  old  woman  looked  up,  but  it  was  a  look  of  despair,  she  instantly 
dropped  her  head.  A  rustling  was  heard  in  the  lodge,  and  the  next  mo- 
ment, she  leaped  up,  and  flew  out  of  the  lodge,  and  was  never  heard  of 
more. 


The  name  of  God,  among  the  ancient  Mexicans,  was  Teo,  a  word  sel 
dom  found,  except  in  compound  phrases.  Among  the  Mohawks  and 
Otiondagas,  it  is  Nco.  Wuh  the  western  Senecas,  as  given  by  Smith, 
Owaynco.  With  the  Odjibwas,  Monedo ;  with  the  Ottowas,  Maneto. 
Many  modifications  of  the  word  by  prefixes,  to  its  radix  Edo,  appear 
among  the  cognate  dialects  It  is  remarkable  that  there  is  so  striking  a 
similarity  in  the  principal  syllable,  and  it  is  curious  to  observe  that  Edo, 
is.  in  sound,  both  the  Greek  term  Deo,  and  the  A/.tcek  Teo,  transposed. 
Is  there  any  thing  absolutely /.wrf  in  the  sounds  of  languages? 


■■,;t  '.I  J 


TAKOZID, 


.i: 


OR 


THE    SIIORT-FOOT. 


h   BIOORAPIIICAI,  BKETCII. 


Most  of  the  individuals  wlio  have  figured  amongst  the  Red  Race  in 
America,  have  appeared  under  circumstances  wliicii  have  prechidcd  any 
tiling  like  a  full  and  consistent  biography.  There  is,  in  truth,  but  little  in 
savage  life,  to  furnish  materials  for  such  biographies.  The  very  scanti- 
ness of  events  determines  this.  A  man  suddenly  appears  among  these 
tribes  as  a  warrior,  a  negociator,  an  orator,  or  a  prophet,  by  a  name  that 
nobody  ever  before  heard  -of  He  excites  attention  for  a  short  time,  and 
then  sinks  back  into  the  mass  of  Indian  society,  and  is  no  more  heard  of 
His  courage,  his  eloquertce,  or  his  diplomatic  skill,  arc  regarded  as  evi- 
dences of  talent,  and  energy  of  thought  or  action,  which,  under  better  au- 
spices, might  have  produced  a  shining  and  consistent  character.  But  he 
has  been  left  by  events,  and  is  sunk  in  the  mass.  He  appeared  rather  like 
an  erratic  body,  or  flash,  than  a  fi.xed  light  amid  his  people.  The  circum 
stances  that  brought  him  into  notice  have  passed  away.  A  victory  has 
been  won,  a  speech  made,  a  noble  example  given.  The  aflliir  has  been 
adjusted,  the  tribe  resumed  its  hunting,  or  corn-planting,  or  wandering, 
or  internal  discords,  and  the  new  name,  which  promised  for  a  while  to  raise 
a  Tamerlane,  or  Tippoo  Saib  in  the  west,  settles  down  in  the  popular 
mind  ;  and  if  it  be  not  wholly  lost,  is  only  heard  of  now  and  then,  as  one 
of  the  signatures  to  some  land  treaty.  There  is  not,  in  fact,  sufficient,  in 
the  population,  military  strength,  or  imporSmce  of  the  affairs  of  most  of 
our  tribes,  to  work  out  incidents  for  a  sustained  and  full  biograjihy.  Even 
the  most  considerable  personages  of  past  times,  who  have  been  honoured 
with  such  full  notices,  have  too  much  resemblance  to  a  stout  boy  in  his 
father's  regimentals.  They  hang  loosely  about  him.  The  most  that  can 
be  done — all  indeed  which  the  occasion  requires  in  general — is  a 
sketch  of  such  particular  events,  in  aboriginal  history,  as  the  individual 
has  connected  his  name  with.  It  is  proposed  in  the  progress  of  this  work, 
to  furnish  some  of  such  sketches  from  the  unwritten  annals  of  the  west 
and  the  north. 

Among  that  class  of  aboriginal  chiefs  and  actors,  who  have  not  risen  to 
the  highest  distinction,  or  attained  general  notoriety  out  of  the  circle  of 
their  own  tribes,  was  Takozid,  or  tlie  Short-Foot ;  a  Mukundwa,  or  pil- 
lager; a  fierce,  warlike,  and  predatory  tribe  of  the  Odjibwa  Algonquin 

118 


TAKOZID,   OR   THE   SIIORT-FOOT. 


119 


stock,  who,  at  nn  oarly  time  scatetl  themselves  on  the  sources  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi, making  their  liead  quarters  nt  Leech  Lake.  To  this  place,  their 
traditions  assert,  tiiey  came  from  Ciiagoitnegon,  or  still  further  east,  prior 
to  tile  disi'overy  of  the  coiinlry  by  Europeans.  They  were  consequently 
intruders  in,  or  conquerors  of  the  country,  and  drove  back  some  other 
people.  It  seems  equally  prol)ablc  that  this  people  were  the  Dacotahs,  tho 
Naddowassies,  or  as  it  is  abbreviated,  Siou.K,  of  early  French  writers.  Tho 
Siou.K  are  a  numerous  and  warlike  stock,  who  occupy  portions  of  the  banks  of 
the  Missouri  and  the  Mississippi,  at,  and  about  the  latitude  of  St.  Anthony's 
Falls.  A  hereditary  war  of  which  "the  memory  of  man  runneth  not  to 
the  contrary,"  was  the  consequence  of  this  ancient  inroad.  Of  all  this 
region  of  country  we  can  speak  from  personal  knowledge,  having  tra- 
versed it  at  sundry  limes,  and  in  various  directions.  It  is  in  local  remi- 
niscence, little  more  than  a  widely  extended  scene  of  Indian  battles,  ambus- 
cades and  murders.  There  is  hardly  a  prominent  stream,  plain  or  forest, 
which  is  not  referred  to,  as  the  traveller  proceeds,  as  the  particular  locality 
of  some  fight,  tragedy,  or  hair-breath  escape  among  tho  Red  Men.  The 
Olympic  games  were  not  a  surer  test  of  fame  in  successful  rivalry,  than  is 
this  wide  area  of  aboriginal  warfare,  for  the  opposing  nations  of  the  Sioux 
and  Chippewas.  War  is  the  prime  avenue  to  distinction  to  the  Indian 
mind.  As  soon  as  a  hunter  has  acquired  any  distinction,  and  begins  to 
look  upon  himself  as  a  person  of  courage  and  address,  he  turns  his  efforts 
to  the  war  path.  Whatever  else  he  is  famous  for,  this  is  the  crowning 
test  and  seal  of  his  reputation.  And  none  have  pursued  it  with  more  in- 
cessant devotion  than  the  Chippewas. 

Takozid  determined  from  his  earliest  youth  to  take  a  part  in  the  strife 
for  barbaric  glory.  He  early  joined  the  war' parties  going  into  the  great 
plains.  He  learned  their  arts,  repeated  their  songs,  and  became  expert  in 
all  the  warrior's  arts.  He  established  the  reputation  of  a  brave  young 
man.  The  next  step  was  to  lead  a  war  party  himself  He  courted  popu- 
larity by  generosity,  self  denial,  and  attention  to  their  religious  rites  and 
ceremonies.  These  things  may  be  done  on  a  smaller  scale,  as  efTectually 
among  a  band  of  savages,  as  in  the  hall  or  forum.  He  succeeded.  He 
raised  a  war  party,  conducted  it  into  the  plains,  discovered  his  enemies, 
approached  them  .siily,  tell  upon  them,  defeated  them,  and  returned  in  tri- 
umph with  their  scalps  to  his  \illnge.  His  deep  and  hollow  cue  kwan 
nri\i,  or  death-cry  of  victory  as  ho  came  to  the  eminence  which  overlooked 
his  village,  announced  all  this  before  he  set  foot  in  his  village:  and  the 
number  of  his  scalps. 

These  exploits  placed  him  on  the  pinnacle  of  fame.  It  is  a  curious  fact, 
m  the  lives  of  our  Red  men,  to  observe  that  war  Is  a  stimulus  to  poligamy. 
One  of  the  first  things  he  thought  of,  as  a  proper  reward  for  his  bravery, 
was  to  take  another  wife.  In  this,  his  friends  and  partisans  concurred, 
although  he  had  no  cause  of  dissatisfaction  with  his  first  wife,  to  whom  he 


( 


120 


TAKOZID,   OR   THE    SHORT-FOOT. 


I-'I 


i  ' 


had  been  married  but  a  short  time,  and  who  had  borne  him  a  son.  Time 
added  confirmation  to  tliis  plan.  It  was  talited  of,  and  even  debated  by  the 
chiefs.  It  was  conceded  to  be  due  to  his  bravery.  Ail,  indeed,  appeared 
to  approve  of  it,  but  his  wife.  She  heard  of  the  rumor  with  alarm,  and 
received  the  account  of  its  confirmation,  with  pain.  It  could  no  Ioniser  be 
doubted,  for  the  indiviilu.il  who  was  to  share,  nay,  control  the  lodge 
with  her  was  named,  and  the  consent  of  her  parents  had  been  obtained. 

Monon,  or  the  Liltle-Iron-Wuod-Treo,  as  she  was  called,  was  a  female 
of  no  ordinary  firmness  of  cliuracter.  She  was  ardently  attached  to  her 
husband,  not  the  less  so  for  his  rising  fame,  jealous  of  her  rights,  and 
prompted  by  strong  feelings  to  maintain  them.  In  all  these  points  she 
was  above  the  generality  of  her  country  women.  Like  others,  however, 
in  a  community  where  poligamy  was  common,  she  might  have  submitted 
at  length,  to  her  fate,  had  not  her  rival  in  the  affl'Ctions  of  Takozid,  ap- 
pealed to  a  deeper  seated  principle,  and  waked  up,  in  the;  breast  of  the  in- 
jured wife,  the  feeling  of  revenge:  a  prmciple  reckluss  enough,  in  com- 
munities where  there  are  the  safeguards  of  education  and  Christianity 
to  restrain  and  regulate  it ;  but  horrible  in  wild  and  roving  bands  of  bar- 
barians. Monon's  fidelity  was  slandered.  She  was  a  pure  and  high 
minded  woman,  and  the  imputation  goaded  her  to  the  quick. 

When  this  slander  first  reached  her  ears,  through  the  ordinary  chan- 
nel of  village  gossip,  a  chord  was  struck,  which  vibratci  ihrough  every 
throe,  and  steeled  her  heart  for  some  extraordinary  act ;  although  none 
could  anticipate  the  sanguinary  deed  which  marked  the  nuptial  night. 
An  Indian  marriage  is  often  a  msxtter  of  little  ceremony.  It  was  not  so, 
on  this  occasion.  To  render  the  events  imposing,  many  had  been  invited. 
The  bride  was  dressed  in  her  best  apparel.  Her  father  was  present. 
Man)'  young  and  old,  males  and  females  were  either  present  or  thronged 
around  the  lodge.  The  broad  clear  blue  waters  of  the  lake,  studded  with 
green  islands,  spread  before  the  door.  A  wide  grassy  lawn,  which  was 
the  village  ball  and  play  ground,  extended  down  to  its  margin.  It  was 
a  public  event  A  throng  had  gathered  around.  Takozid  was  to  be 
mariied.  He  was  to  take  a  second  wife,  in  the  daughter  of  Obegwud. 
Takozid  himself  was  there.  Hilarity  reigned  within  and  without.  All 
indeed,  were  there,  but  the  dejected  and  deserted  Monon,  who  had  been 
left  with  her  child,  at  the  chieftain's  own  lodge. 

But  a  spirit  had  been  aroused  in  her  breast,  which  would  not  permit 
her  to  remain  absent.  She  crossed  the  green  silently,  stealthily.  She 
stood  gazing  awhile  at  the  lake.  She  approached  the  bridal  lodge.  She 
passed  easily  among  the  group.  She  entered  the  lodge.  Nor  had  any 
one,  at  that  moment,  a  thought  of  suspicion  or  alarm.  The  bride  was 
seated  on  her  envied  abhinos  ;  her  affianced  husband  was  at  her  side. 

All  at  once,  there  arose  a  shrill  cry,  in  the  Chippewa  tongue.  "  Tkis, 
vociferated  the  enraged  Monon,  This  for  the  bastard!"  and  at  each  repeti 


Iti 
he  I 


m 


TAKOZID,   OR   THE    SIIORT-FOOT. 


Itl 


lion  of  the  words,  she  raised  nn  Indinn  poignard,  in  her  hand.  The  Bud- 
denness  of  licr  nioveinoiit  liad  paralyzid  every  aitoinpt  to  nrrfst  her. 
Amazement  sat  in  every  face.  She  had  plunged  a  pointed  knile  into  the 
Dreast  of  her  rival. 

There  is  little  to  be  addtnl  to  such  a  catastrophe.  Its  very  suddeimcss 
and  atrocity  appalled  every  one.  Nobody  arrtsted  her,  and  nobody  pur- 
sued her.  She  returned  as  sh(!  came,  and  re-cnteied  her  loilge.  Her 
victitn  never  spoke. 

From  tills  moment  the  fiinc  of  TuUozid  declined.  'I'he  event  appeared 
to  have  nnnianned  him.  Me  went  no  more  to  war.  llis  martial  spirits 
appeared  to  have  left  him.  He  siuik  hack  into  the  mass  of  Indian  society, 
and  was  scarcely  ever  mentioned.  Nor  should  we,  iiidced,  have  recalled 
his  name  from  its  obscurity,  were  it  not  associated  in  the  Indian  reminis- 
cences of  Leach  lake,  with  this  sanguinary  deed. 

1  had  this  relation  a  few  years  ago,  from  a  trader,  who  had  lived  at 
Leech  lake,  who  personally  knew  the  parties,  and  whose  veracity  I 
had  no  reason  at  all,  to  call  into  question.  It  is  one  of  the  elements  that 
go  into  the  sum  of  my  personal  observations,  on  savage  life,  and  as  such  1 
cast  it  among  these  paj)ers.  To  judge  of  the  Red  race  aright,  we  nmst 
view  it,  in  ail  its  phases,  and  if  we  would  perform  our  duty  towards  them, 
as  christians  and  men,  we  should  gather  our  data  from  small,  as  well  as 
great  events,  and  from  afar  as  well  as  near.  When  all  has  been  done,  in 
the  way  of  such  collections  and  researches,  it  will  be  found,  we  think, 
that  their  errors  and  crimes,  whatever  they  are,  assume  no  deeper  dye 
than  philanthropy  has  had  reason  to  apprehend  them  to  take,  without  a 
knowledge  of  the  principles  of  the  gospel.  T/ioii  shalt  not  kill,  is  a  law, 
yet  to  be  enforced,  among  more  than  two  hundred  thousand  souls,  who 
bear  the  impress  of  a  red  skin,  within  the  acknowledged  limits  of  the 
American  Union. 


MACIIIMTO,    THE    EVIL    SPIRIT; 


:h:i 


FnO.M    THE    I,F.(iK.NI)8   OK    l.\GOU. 

BY  MRS.  E.  OAKES  .SMITH. 

"The  Papraii  world  not  only  bflievcs  in  a  inyriiul  of  {rods,  bat  worsliijiK  them  also 
It  is  the  pecniiarity  of  liif  \orili  .Anirrican  Indi.m,  fliat  while  lie  hiliercs  in  as  many, 
he  worships  but  one,  the  Creuf  Spirit." — {SchontcraJ't.) 

CiiEMANiTou,  being  the  master  of  life,  at  one  time  became  the  origin  of 
a  spirit,  that  has  ever  since  caused  himself  -tfi'  -H  A«l.nrc  «f  l,is  creniion 


m- 


1S9 


INDIAN    MyTIIOLOOY. 


a  great  deal  ofdisqiiiut.  His  birtli  was  mviiig  to  an  acculont  It  wns  in 
this  wise. 

Mr;r6\VAr,  or  oa  iho  whitn  people  now  call  it,  Ijoni,'  Isl.iml,  was  origi 
ntillyu  vast  plain,  so  Imel  luid  fioo  fioin  any  kind  nt  growth,  tliat  it  looked 
like  a  portion  of  the  jy^reat  sc.i  that  had  suddenly  been  mudo  to  move  back 
and  let  the  sand  helow  appear,  wliieh  was  the  case  in  f.ict. 

Here  it  wns  that  Chetnanilou  used  to  come  and  sit,  when  hi;  wished  to 
bring  any  new  creation  to  the  life.  Tiie  place  bt.'ing  spacious  and  solitary, 
the  water  upon  every  side,  he  iiad  not  only  room  enough,  but  wns  free 
from  interruption. 

It  is  well  known  tliat  some  of  these  early  creations  were  of  very  great 
size, so  that  very  few  could  live  in  the  same  place,  nnd  their  strength  made 
it  difficult  for  Chemanitou,  even  to  coritroul  thcin  ;  for  when  he  has  given 
them  certain  elements,  they  have  the  use  of  the  laws  that  govern  these  ele- 
ments, till  it  is  iiis  will  to  take  them  back  to  himself  Accordingly,  it  was 
the  custom  of  Chemanitou,  when  he  wished  to  try  the  eflect  of  these  crea- 
tures, to  set  them  in  motion  upon  the  island  of  Metowac,  and  if  they  did 
not  please  him,  he  took  the  life  out  before  they  were  sutlered  to  escape. 
He  would  set  up  a  mammoth  or  other  large  animal,  in  the  centre  of  tho 
island,  and  build  him  up  with  great  care,  somewhat  in  the  manner  that  a 
cabin  or  a  canoe  is  made. 

Even  to  this  day  may  be  found  traces  of  what  had  been  done  here  in 
former  years;  nnd  the  manner  in  which  the  earth  sometimes  sinks  down 
[even  wells  fall  out  at  the  bottom  here,]  shows  that  this  island  is 
nothing  more  than  a  great  cake  of  earth,  a  sort  of  platter  laid  upon  the  sea, 
for  the  convenience  of  Chemanitou,  who  used  it  as  a  tal)le  upon  which  he 
might  work,  never  having  designed  it  for  anything  else  ;  the  margin  of  the 
Chatiemac,  (the  stately  swan,)  or  Hudson  river,  being  better  adapted  to 
the  purposes  of  habitation. 

When  the  master  of  life  wished  to  buihl  up  an  elephant  or  mamnioth  he 
placed  four  cakes  of  clay  upon  tho  groimd,  at  proper  distai);,es,  which 
were  moulded  into  shape,  and  became  the  feet  of  the  animal. 

Now  sometimes  these  were  left  unfinished  ;  and  to  this  day  the  green 
tussocks,  to  be  seen  like  little  islands  about  the  marshes,  show  when;  these 
cakes  of  clay  had  been  placed. 

As  Chemanitou  went  on  with  his  work,  the  Ni:r,nANAwn.\ios  (or  water 
spirits.)  the  PrcK-wrn-.iiN.Nncs,  (Fairies  *)  and  indeed  all  the  lesser  manit- 
toes,  used  to  come  and  look  on,  and  wonder  what  it  wouLl  be,  ,111 1  how  it 
would  act. 

When  the  animal  was  quite  done,  and  had  dried  a  long  time  in  the  sun, 
Chemanitou  opened  a  place  in  the  side,  and  entering  in,  rerniined  there 
many  days. 


•  Literally,  little  men,  who  vanish. 


INDIAN    MYTIIoi.OfJY. 


123 


Whnn  he  rnnn'  forth,  tlio  crcutiirc  firyan  to  shivrr  nnd  sway  from  siJii 
10  sidt',  in  siicli  ii  tnahiii'r  a.s  jiliunk  the  wliol*!  irtlaiid   I'nr  many  It'iigues. 


If  hi 


lis  ap|H'ar;iiu:t!  plcaM'd  tlic  master  of  lili;  litswa.s  snllind  to  d(|mil,  uiul 
it  wns  geiiurally  found  th.i  thidu  atiinialM  pliinirrd  into  thu  sen  iijion  tho 
north  sid»'  of  thi'  inland,  :iikI  disappcart'd  in  ifh-  j^nat  forrstf  hcyond. 

Now  at  one  liuHJ  (Jhi'manitoii  was  a  very  lonif  whilu  Imildin;,'  an  nni- 
mul,  of  such  irruat  hulk,  that  it  Kxiktsl  liki;  a  nmuntain  upon  the  cen- 
tre of  tlie  island  ;  and  all  the  munittoes,  from  all  parts,  cnme  to  .see  what  it 
was.  Tlie  Puck wud-jinnies  especially  made  themselves  very  merry, 
capering'  hehind  his  j^reat  oars,  sittintf  within  his  mouth,  each  perched 
upon  a  tooth,  and  running;  in  and  out  of  tlie  sockets  of  the  eyes,  think- 
ing Chemanitou,  wiio  was  linishingoirother  parts  of  the  animal,  could  not 
8CC  them. 

Hut  he  can  see  right  through  every  thing'  he  has  made,  fie  was  glad 
to  see  them  so  lively,  and  bethought  himself  of  many  new  creations  while 
he  watched  their  motions. 

When  the  Master  of  Life  had  completed  this  largo  animal,  he  was  fear- 
ful to  give  it  life,  nnd  so  it  was  left  upon  the  island,  or  work-table  of  Che- 
manitou, till  its  great  weight  caused  it  to  break  through,  and  sinking 
partly  down  it  stuck  fast,  the  head  and  tail  holding  it  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  prevent  it  from  going  down. 

Chemanitou  then  lifted  up  a  piece  of  the  back,  nnd  found  it  made  a 
very  good  cavity,  into  which  tho  old  creations,  which  failed  to  please  him, 
might  be  thrown. 

He  sometimes  amused  himself  by  making  creatures  very  small  and  ac- 
tive, with  which  he  disported  awhile,  and  finding  them  of  very  little  use 
in  tile  world,  nnd  not  so  attractive  as  the  little  Vanishers,  he  would  take 
out  the  life,  holding  it  in  himself,  and  then  oast  them  into  the  cave  made 
by  the  body  of  the  unfinished  animal.  In  this  way  great  quantities  of 
very  odd  shapes  were  heaped  together  in  this  Rmiromromon,  or  "  iMace  of 
Fragments." 

He  was  always  careful  to  first  take  out  the  life. 

One  day  the  Master  of  Life  took  two  pieces  of  clay  and  moulded  them 
into  two  large  feet,  like  those  of  a  panther.  He  did  not  make  four — there 
were  two  only. 

He  stepped  his  own  feet  into  them,  and  found  the  tread  \ery  light  and 
springy,  so  that  he  might  go  with  great  speed,  and  yet  make  no  noise. 

Next  he  built  up  a  pair  of  very  tall  legs,  in  the  shape  of  his  own,  and 
made  them  walk  about  awhile — he  was  pleased  with  the  motion.  Then 
followed  a  round  body,  covered  with  large  scales,  like  the  alligator. 

He  now  found  the  figure  doubling  forward,  and  he  fastened  a  long 
black  snake,  that  was  gliding  by,  to  the  back  part  of  the  body,  and  let  "it 
wind  itself  about  a  sapling  near,  which  held  the  body  upright,  and  made 
a  very  good  tail. 


124 


INDIAN   MYTHOLOGY. 


The  shoulders  were  broad  and  strong,  like  those  of  the  buflaloe,  and 
covered  with  iiair — tlie  neck  thick  and  short,  and  full  at  the  back. 

Thus  far  Ciiemaiiitou  had  worked  with  little  thought,  but  when  lie 
came  to  the  head  he  thought  a  long  while. 

He  took  a  round  ball  of  clay  into  his  lap,  and  worked  it  over  with  great 
care.  While  he  thought,  he  patted  the  ball  upon  the  top,  which  made  it 
very  broad  and  low;  for  Chemanitou  was  thinking  of  the  panther  feet, 
and  the  buflaloe  neck.  He  remembered  the  Puck-wud-jinnies  playing 
in  the  eye  sockets  of  the  great  unfinished  animal,  and  he  bethought  him 
to  set  the  eyes  out,  like  those  of  a  lobster,  so  that  the  animal  might  see 
upon  every  side. 

He  made  the  forehead  broad  and  full,  but  low ;  for  here  was  to  be  the 
wisdom  of  the  forked  tongue,  like  that  of  the  serpent,  which  should  be  in 
his  mouth.  He  should  see  all  things,  and  know  all  things.  Here  Che- 
manitou stopped,  for  he  saw  that  he  had  never  thought  of  such  a  creation 
before,  one  with  but  two  feet,  a  creature  who  should  stand  upright,  and 
see  upon  every  side. 

The  jaws  were  very  strong,  with  ivory  teeth,  and  gills  upon  either  side, 
which  arose  and  fell  whenever  breath  passed  through  them.  The  nose  was 
like  the  beak  of  the  vulture.    A  tuft  of  porcupine  quills  made  the  scalp-lock. 

Chemanitou  held  the  head  out  the  length  of  his  arm,  and  turned  it  first 
upon  one  side  and  then  upon  the  other.  He  passed  it  rapidly  through 
the  air,  and  saw  the  gills  rise  and  fall,  the  lobster  eyes  whirl  round,  and 
the  vulture  nose  look  keen. 

Chemanitou  became  very  sau  ;  yet  he  put  the  head  upon  the  shoulders. 
It  was  the  first  time  he  had  made  un  upright  figure. 

It  seemed  to  be  the  first  idea  of  a  man. 

It  was  now  nearly  night ;  the  bats  were  flying  through  the  air,  and  the 
roar  of  wild  beasts  began  to  be  heard.  A  gusty  wind  swept  in  from  the 
ocean,  and  passed  over  the  island  of  Metowac,  castmg  the  light  sand  to 
and  fro.  A  heavy  scud  was  skimming  along  the  horizon,  while  higher 
up  in  the  sky  was  a  dark  thick  cloud,  upon  the  verge  of  which  the  moon 
hung  for  a  moment,  and  then  was  shut  in. 

A  panther  came  by  and  stayed  a  moment,  with  one  foot  raised  and 
bent  inward,  while  he  looked  up  at  the  image,  and  smelt  the  feet,  that 
were  like  his  own. 

A  vulture  swooped  down  wiili  a  great  noise  of  its  wings,  and  made  a 
dash  at  the  beak,  but  Chemiinitou  held  him  back. 

Then  came  the  porcupine,  and  the  lizard,  and  the  snake,  each  drawn  by 
its  kind  in  the  image. 

Chemanitou  veiled  his  face  for  many  hours,  and  the  gusty  wind  swept 
by,  but  he  did  not  stir. 

He  saw  that  every  beast  of  the  earth  seeketh  its  kind  ;  and  that  which, 
is  like  draweth  its  likeness  unto  himself 


life 


ha- 


INDIAN    MVTHOLOr.Y. 


12b 


The  Mastfirof  Life  thought  and  thought.  The  idea  grew  into  his  mind 
that  nt  some  ii.nc  he  would  cipiite  a  creature  who  should  be  made  not 
aftor  the  things  of  the  earth,  but  after  liiniself. 

He  should  link  this  world  to  the  spirit  world, — being  made  in  the  like- 
ness of  the  Cireiii  Spirit,  he  siiould  be  drawn  unto  his  likeness. 

Many  days  ami  nights,  whole  seasons,  passed  while  Chemanitou 
inought  uj)on  these  things,     lie  saw  all  things. 

Then  the  Master  of  Life  lifted  up  liis  head  ;  the  stars  were  looking 
down  upon  the  image,  and  a  bat  had  alighted  upon  the  forehead, spreading 
its  great  wings  upon  each  side.  Chemanitou  took  the  bat  and  luld  out  its 
wiiole  leathery  wings,  (and  ever  since  the  bat,  when  he  rests,  kts  his 
body  hang  down.)  so  that  he  could  try  them  over  the  head  of  the  image. 
He  then  took  the  life  of  the  bat  away,  and  twisted  ofT  the  botly,  by  which 
means  the  whole  thin  part  fell  down  over  tiie  head,  and  upon  each  side, 
making  the  ears,  and  a  covering  for  the  forehead  like  that  of  the  liooded 
serpent. 

Chemanitou  did  not  cut  off  the  face  of  the  image  below,  he  went  on 
and  made  a  chin,  and  lips  that  were  firm  and  round,  that  they  might  shut 
in  the  forked  tongue,  and  the  ivory  teeth  ;  and  he  knew  that  with  the  lips 
and  the  chin  it  would  smile,  when  life  should  be  given  to  it. 

The  image  was  now  all  done  but  the  arms,  and  Chemanitou  saw  that 
with  a  chin  it  must  have  hands.     He  grew  more  grave. 

He   had  never  given  hands  to  any  creature. 

He  made  the  arms  and  the  hands  very  beautiful,  after  the  manner  of  his 
own. 

Chemanitou  now  took  no  pleasure  in  his  work  that  was  done — it  was 
not  good  in  his  sight. 

He  wished  he  had  not  given  it  hands ;  might  it  not,  when  trusted  with 
life,  might  it  not  begin  to  create?  might  it  not  thwart  the  plans  of  the 
master  of  life  himself  I 

He  looked  long  at  the  image.  He  saw  what  it  would  do  when  life 
should  be  given  it.     He  knew  all  things. 

He  now  put  fire  in  the  image :  but  fire  is  not  life. 

He  put  fire  within,  and  a  red  glow  passed  through  and  through  it. 
The  firo  dried  the  clay  of  which  it  was  made,  and  gave  the  image  an  ex- 
ceedingly fierce  aspect.  It  shone  through  the  scales  upon  the  breast,  and  the 
gills,  and  the  bat-winged  ears.     The  lobster  eyes  were  like  a  living  coal. 

Chemanitou  opened  the  side  of  the  image,  but  lie  did  not  cider.  He 
had  given  it  hands  and  a  chin. 

It  could  smile  like  the  manittoes  themselves. 

He  made  it  walk  all  about  the  island  of  Metowac,  that  he  might  seo 
how  it  would  act.     This  he  did  by  means  of  his  will. 

He  now  put  a  little  life  into  it,  but  he  did  not  take  out  the  fire.  Che- 
manitou saw  the  aspect  of  the  creature  would  be  very  terrible,  and  yet  that 


126 


INDIAN    MYTHOLOGY. 


I 


he  could  smile  jn  such  a  manner  that  ho  ceased  to  be  ugly.  He  thought 
much  u])oii  these  things.  He  felt  it  would  not  be  best  to  let  such  a 
creature  live;  a  creature  made  up  mostly  from  the  beasts  of  the  field,  but 
with  hands  of  power,  a  chin  lifting  the  head  upward,  and  lips  holding  all 
things  within  themselves. 

While  he  thought  upon  these  things,  he  took  '.he  image  in  his  hands 
and  cast  it  into  the  cave. 

Bui  Ckemanhou  forgot  to  take  out  the  life  ! 

The  creature  lay  a  long  time  in  the  cave  and  did  not  stir,  for  his  fall- 
was  very  great.     He  lay  amongst  the  old  creations  that  had  been  thrown 
in  there  without  life. 

Now  when  a  long  time  had  passed  Chemanitou  heard  a  great  noise  in 
the  cave.  He  looked  in  and  saw  the  image  sittin.g  there,  and  he  was  try- 
ing to  put  together  the  old  broken  things  that  had  been  cast  in  as  of  no  value. 

Chemanitou  gathered  together  a  vast  heap  of  stones  and  sand,  for  large 
rocks  are  not  to  be  had  upon  the  island,  and  stopped  the  mouth  of  the  cave. 
Many  days  passsed  and  the  noise  grew  louder  within  the  cave.  The 
earth  shook,  and  hot  smoke  came  from  the  ground.  The  Manittoes 
crowded  to  Metowac  to  see  what  was  the  matter. 

Chemanitou  came  also,  for  he  remembered  the  image  he  had  cast  in 
there,  and  forgotten  to  take  away  the  life. 

Suddenly  there  was  a  great  rising  of  the  stones  and  sand — the  sky 
grew  black  with  wind  and  dust.  Fire  played  about  the  ground,  and 
water  gushed  high  into  the  air. 

All  the  Manittoes  fled  with  fear  ;  and  the  image  came  forth  with  a  great 
noise  and  most  terrible  to  beliold.  His  life  had  grown  strong  within 
him,  for  the  fire  had  made  it  very  fierce. 

Everything  fled  before  him  and  cried — Maciunito— Machinito — which 
means  a  god,  but  an  evil  god  I 

The  above  legend  is  gathered  from  the  traditions  of  lagou,  the  great 
Indian  narrator,  who  seems  to  have  dipped  deeper  into  philosophy  than 
mo3t  of  his  compeers.  The  aboriginal  language  abounds  with  stories  re- 
lated by  this  remarkable  personage,  which  we  hope  to  bring  before  tho 
public  at  some  future  time.  Whether  subsequent  events  justify  the  Indian 
in  making  Long  Island  the  arena  of  the  production  of  Machinito  or  tho 
Evil  Spirit,  will  seem  more  than  apocryphal  to  a  white  resident.  How- 
ever we  have  nothing  to  do  e.xccpt  to  relate  the  fact  as  it  was  related. 

As  to  these  primitive  metaphysics,  they  arc  at  least  curious  ;  and  the  cool- 
ness with  which  the  fact  is  assumed  that  the  origin  of  evil  was  accidental 
in  the  process  of  developing  a  perfect  humanity,  would,  at  an  earlier  day, 
have  been  quite  appallmg  to  tin;  icliuohuen.  E.  O.  S. 


1:1 


•    EEPOSE  OF  THE  SOUI. 


When  an  Indian  corpse  is  put  in  a  coffin,  among  the  tribes  of  the  Lake* 
^.Igonquins,  the  lid  is  tied  down,  and  not  nailed.  On  depositing  it  in  the 
grave,  the  rope  or  string  is  loosed,  and  the  weight  of  the  earth  alone 
relied  on,  to  keep  it  in  a  fixed  position.  The  reason  they  give  for  this,  is, 
that  the  soul  may  have  free  egress  from  the  body. 

Over  the  top  of  the  grave  a  covering  of  cedar  bark  is  put,  to  shed  the 
rain.  This  is  roof-shaped  and  the  whole  structure  looks,  slightly,  like  a 
house  in  miniature.  It  has  gable  ends.  Through  one  of  these,  being  the 
head,  an  aperture  is  cut.  On  asking  a  Chippewa  why  this  was  done,  he 
replied, — "  To  allow  the  soul  to  pass  out,  and  in." 

"I  thought,"  I  replied,  "that  you  believed  that  the  soul  went  up  from 
the  body  at  the  time  of  death,  to  a  land  of  happiness.  How,  then,  can  it 
remain  in  the  body?" 

"  There  are  two  souls,"  replied  the  Indian  philosopher. 

"  How  can  this  be?  my  friend." 

"It  is  easily  explained,"  said  he. 

"  You  know  that,  in  dreams,  we  pass  over  wide  countries,  and  see  hills 
and  lakes  and  mountains,  and  many  scenes,  which  pass  before  our  eyes, 
and  afTect  us.  Yet.  at  the  same  time,  our  bodies  do  not  stir,  and  there  13 
a  soul  left  with  the  body. — else  it  would  be  dead.  So,  j'ou  perceive,  it  must 
be  another  soul  that  accoinpanies  us." 

This  conversation  took  place,  in  the  Indian  country.  I  knew  the  In- 
dian very  well,  and  had  noticed  the  practice,  not  general  now,  on  the  fron- 
tiers, of  fj/ini^'-  the  cofTm-lid.  in  burials.  It  is  at  the  orifice  in  the  bark 
sheeting  mentioned,  that  the  portion  of  food,  consecrated  in  feasts  for  the 
dead,  is  set.  It  could  not  but  happen,  that  the  food  should  be  eaten  by  the 
hystri.K,  wolf,  or  some  other  animal,  known  to  prowl  at  night;  nor  that, 
Indian  superstition,  ever  ready  to  t\irn  slight  appearances  of  this  kind  to 
iccount,  should  attribute  its  abstraction  to  the  spirit  of  the  deceased. 


THE  LITTLE  SPIRIT,  OR  BOY-MAN. 

AN  ODJIBWA  FAIRY  TALE. 

WKITTEN    OUT   FUOJl    THE    VEKBAL    NARRATIVE    BY   THE   LATE 
MRS.    H.  R.    SCHOOLCRAFT. 

There  was  once  a  little  boy,  remarkable  for  the  smallness  of  hi.s  stature. 
He  was  living  alone  wiih  his  sister  older  than  himself.  Thoy  were  orphans, 
thfiy  lived  in  a  beautiful  spot  on  the  Lake  shore  ;    iiuny  large  rocks  were 

127 


128 


THE    LITTLE    SPIRIT,   OR    BOY-MAN. 


ll 

1 

jli 

scattered  aiound  their  habitation.  The  boy  never  gjew  larger  as  he 
advanced  in  years.  One  day,  in  winter,  he  asl<ud  his  sister  to  make  him 
a  ball  to  play  with  along  shore  on  the  clear  ice.  She  made  one  for  him, 
but  cautioned  him  not  to  go  too  Car. — Ofl'  he  went  in  liigh  glee,  throwing 
his  ball  before  him,  and  running  after  it  at  full  speed  ;  and  he  went  as  fast 
as  h'S  bull.  At  last  his  ball  flew  to  a  great  distance:  he  followed  it  as  fast 
as  he  could.  After  he  had  run  for  some  time,  he  saw  four  dark  substances 
on  the  ice  straight  before  him.  When  he  came  up  to  the  spot  he  was  sur- 
prised to  see  lour  large,  tall  men  lying  on  the  ice,  spearing  fish.  When  he 
went  up  to  them,  the  nearest  looked  up  anil  in  turn  was  surprised  to  see 
such  a  diminutive  being,  and  turning  to  his  brothers,  he  said,  "Tia!  look  I 
see  what  a  little  fellow  is  here."  After  they  had  all  looked  a  mo- 
ment, they  resumed  their  position,  covered  their  heads,  intent  in  searching 
for  fish.  The  boy  thought  to  himself,  they  imagine  me  too  insignificant 
for  common  courtesy,  because  they  are  tall  and  large  ;  I  shall  teach  them 
notwithstanding,  that  I  am  not  to  be  treated  so  lightly.  Alter  they  were 
covered  up  the  boy  saw  they  had  each  a  largo  trout  lying  beside  them. 
He  slyly  took  inc  one  nearest  him,  and  placing  his  fingers  in  the  gills,  and 
tossing  his  ball  before  him,  ran  off  at  full  speed.  When  the  man  to 
whom  the  fish  belonged  looked  up,  he  saw  his  trout  sliding  away  as  if  of 
itself,  at  a  great  rate — the  boy  being  so  small  he  was  not  distinguished  fiom 
the  fish.  He  addressed  his  brothers  and  said,  "See  how  that  tiny  boy 
has  stolen  my  fish;  what  a  shame  it  is  he  should  do  so."  The  boy 
reached  home,  and  told  his  sister  to  go  out  nnd  get  the  fish  he  had  brought 
home.  She  e.vclaimed,  "  where  could  you  have  got  it?  I  hope  you  have 
not  stolen  it."  "  O  no,"  he  replied,  "  I  found  it  on  the  ice."  "  How"  per- 
sisted the  sister,  "could  you  have  got  it  there  ?" — "  No  matter,"  said  the  boy, 
"go  and  cook  it."  He  disdained  to  answer  her  again,  but  thought  he 
would  one  day  show  her  how  to  appreciate  him.  She  went  to  the  place 
he  left  it,  and  there  indeed  she  found  a  monstrous  trout.  She  did  as  she 
was  bid,  and  cooked  it  for  that  day's  consinnption.  N'jxt  morning  he  went 
off  again  as  at  first.  When  he  came  near  the  large  men,  who  fished  every 
day,  he  threw  his  ball  with  such  force  that  it  rolled  into  the  ice-hole  of 
the  man  of  whom  he  had  stolen  the  day  before.  As  he  hnppened  to  raise 
himself  at  the  time,  the  boy  said,  "  Neejee,  pray  hand  me  my  ball."  "  No 
indeed,"  answered  the  man,  "  I  shall  not,"  and  thrust  the  ball  under  the 
ice.  The  boy  took  hold  of  his  arm  and  broke  it  in  two  in  a  moment,  and 
threw  him  to  one  side,  and  picked  up  his  ball,  which  had  bounded  back 
from  under  the  ice,  and  tossed  it  as  usual  before  him.  Outstripping  it  in 
speed,  he  got  home  and  remained  within  till  the  next  morning.  The 
man  whose  arm  he  had  broken  hallooed  out  to  his  brothers,  and  told  them 
his  case,  and  deplored  his  fate.  They  hurried  to  their  brother,  and  as 
loud  as  they  could  roar  threatened  vengeance  on  the  morrow,  knowing 


THE    LITTLE    SPIRIT,    OR   BOY-MAN. 


129 


ihe  boy's  speed  that  they  could  not  overtake  him,  and  he  wns  nenr  out  of 
sii^lK;  yet  he  lieiird  their  threats  nnd  awaited  their  cominfr  in  perfect  in- 


di(i: 


illereiice.  The  four  brotiigs  the  next  morning  prepared  to  take  their 
revenge,  'i'heir  old  mother  begged  them  not  to  go — "  Better"  said  she  '-that 
one  only  should  sulii;r,  than  that  all  should  perish ,  for  he  must  bo  a 
nionedo,  or  he  could  not  peiTorm  such  feats."  But  her  sons  would  not  lis- 
ten ;  and  taking  tlnir  wounded  brother  along,  started  for  the  boy's  lodge, 
liaving  learnt  that  h6  lived  at  the  place  of  rocks.  The  hoy's  sister  thought 
she  heard  the  noise  of  snow-shoes  on  the  erusted  snow  at  a  distance  ad- 
vancing. She  saw  the  large,  tali  nrien  coming  straight  to  their  lotlge,  or 
rather  cave,  for  they  lived  in  a  large  rock.  She  ran  in  with  great  fear,  and 
told  her  brother  the  fact.  He  said,  "  Why  do  you  mind  them?  give  me 
something  to  eat."  "  Flow  can  you  think  of  eating  at  such  a  time,"  she 
replied, — "  Do  as  I  request  you,  and  be  quick."  She  then  gave  him  his 
dish,  which  was  a  large  mia-qua-dace  shell,  and  he  commenced  eating.  Just 
then  the  men  came  to  the  door,  and  were  about  lilting  the  curtain  placed 
there,  when  the  boy-man  turned  his  dish  upside-down,  and  immediately 
the  door  was  closed  with  a  stone;  the  men  tried  hard  with  their  clubs  to 
crack  it ;  at  length  they  succeeded  in  making  a  slight  opening.  When  one 
of  them  peeped  in  with  one  eye,  the  boy-man  shot  his  arrow  into  his  eye 
and  brain,  and  he  dropped  down  dead.  Tlie  others,  not  knowing  what  had 
happened  their  brother,  did  the  same,  and  all  fell  in  like  manner;  their 
cuiiosity  was  so  great  to  see  what  the  boy  was  about.  So  they  all  shared 
the  same  fate.  After  they  were  killed  the  boy  man  told  his  sister  to  go 
out  and  see  them.  She  opened  the  door,  but  feared  they  were  not  dead,  and 
entered  back  again  hastily,  and  told  her  fears  to  her  brother.  He  went  out 
and  hacked  them  in  small  pieces,  saying,  •'hencefbith  ht  no  man  be 
larger  than  you  are  now.  So  men  became  of  the  present  size.  When 
spring  came  on,  the  boy-man  said  to  hi.s  sister,  "  Make  me  a  new  set  of 
arrows  and  bow."  She  obeyed,  as  he  never  did  any  thing  himself  of  a  na- 
ture that  required  manual  labour,  though  he  provided  for  their  sustenance. 
After  she  made  them,  she  again  cautioned  him  not  to  shoot  into  the  lake; 
but  regardless  of  all  admonition,  he,  on  purpose,  shot  his  arrow  into  the 
lake;  and  waded  some  distance  till  he  got  into  deep  water,  and  paddled 
about  for  his  arrow,  so  as  to  attract  the  attention  of  his  sister.  She  came 
in  haste  to  the  shore,  calling  him  to  return,  but  instead  of  minding  her 
he  called  out,  "  Ma-mis-quon-je-gun-a,  be-nau-wa-con-zhe-shin,"  that  is, 
"  you,  of  the  red  fins  come  and  swallow  me."  Immediately  that  monstrous 
fish  came  and  swallowed  him  :  and  seeinff  his  sister  standing  on  the  shore 
in  despair,  he  hallooed  out  to  her,  "  Me-zush-ke-zin-ance."  She  wondered 
what  he  meant.  But  on  reflection  she  thought  it  must  be  an  old  mockesin. 
She  accordingly  tied  the  old  mockesin  to  a  string,  and  fastened  it  to  a  tree. 
The  fish  said  to  the  boy-man,  under  water,  "What  is  that  floating?"  the 
boy-man  said  to  the  fish,  "  Go,  take  hold  of  it,  swallow  it  as  fast  as  you 

8 


130 


THE    LITTLE   SPIRIT,    OR   BOV-MAN. 


con."  The  fish  darted  towards  the  old  shoe,  and  swallowed  it  The  boy- 
man  laughed  in  himself,  but  said  nothing,  till  the  fish  was  faiily  caught; 
he  then  took  hold  of  the  line  and  began  to  pull  himself  and  fish  to 
shore.  The  sister,  who  was  watching,  Avas  surprised  to  see  so  large  a  fish  ; 
and  hauling  it  ashore  she  took  her  knife  and  commenced  cutting  it  open. 
When  she  heard  her  brother's  voice  inside  of  the  fish,  saying,  "  Make 
haste  and  release  me  from  this  nasty  place,"  his  sister  was  in  such  haste 
that  she  almost  hit  his  head  with  her  knife;  but  succeeded  in  making  an 
opening  large  enough  for  her  brother  to  get  out.  When  he  was  fairly  out, 
he  told  his  sister  to  cut  up  the  fish  and  dry  it,  as  it  would  last  a  long  time 
for  their  sustenance,  and  said  to  her,  never,  never  more  to  doubt  his  ability 
in  any  way.     So  ends  the  story. 


i 
I 


AINGODON  AND  NAYWADAHA. 


BTOBY  OP  A  TAMILY  OP  NADOWaS,  OR  PROPLK  OP  THE  SIX  NATIONS  OP  TORONTO, 
CONSISTING  OP  SIX  BROTHKHS,  THEIR  YOUNQKST  SISIER,  AND  TWO  AUNTS.  THEIR 
FATHER  AND  MOTHER  HAVING  DIED,  THEY  WERE  LEPT  ORPHANS,  THEIR  ORIOIN, 
HOWEVER,  WAS   FROM   THE   FIRST  CLASS    OP   CHIEFTAINS   IN   THEIR  NATION. 

NARRATED    FROM    THE    ORAL    RELATION   OF    NABANOI,   BY 
MR.  GEORGE  JOHNSTON. 

In  the  days  of  this  story,  wars,  murders,  and  cruelty  existed  in  the 
country  now  compnsmg  the  province  of  Upper  Canada,  or  that  portion 
bordering  upon  Lakes  Simcop.  Erie,  and  Ontario,  which  was  claimed  and 
belonged  to  the  powerful  tribe  of  the  eight  nations  of  the  Nawtoways. 
The  young  men  had,  on  a  day,  started  for  a  hunting  excursion :  in  the 
evening  five  only  of  the  brothers  returned,  one  was  missing.  Upon  search 
being  made  the  body  was  found,  and  it  appeared  evident  that  he  had  been 
killed:  this  gave  a  great  blow  to  the  family,  but  particularly  causing  great 
affliction  to  the  sister,  who  was  the  youngest  of  the  family.  She  mourned 
and  lamented  her  brother's  death,  and  she  wept  ince.ss;intly. 

The  ensuing  year  another  was  killed,  and  so  on  till  four  were  killed. 
The  remaining  two  brothers  did  all  they  could  to  afford  consolation  to 
their  pining  sister,  but  she  would  not  be  consoled :  they  did  all  they  could 
to  divert  her  mind  from  so  much  mourning,  but  all  their  endeavours 
proved  ineffectual:  she  scarcely  took  any  food,  and  what  she  ate  was 
hardly  sufficient  to  sustain  nature.  The  two  brothers  said  that  they 
would  go  hunting,  which  they  did  Irom  day  to  day.    They  would  bring 


AINGODCN   AND   NAYWADAHA. 


181 


ducks  find  birds  of  every  description  to  their  sister,  in  order  to  tempt  her 
appetite,  but  she  persisted  in  refusing  nourishment,  or  taking  very  little. 
At  the  exp  ration  of  the  year  when  the  fourth  brother  had  been  killed, 
the  two  young  men  set  out  upon  the  chase ;  one  of  them  returned  in  the 
evening,  the  oilier  was  missing,  and  found  killed  in  like  manner  as  the 
others  had  been.  Tliis  again  augmented  the  aftlictions  of  the  young  girl; 
she  had  been  very  delicate,  but  was  now  reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton.  At 
the  expiration  of  the  year  the  only  and  last  of  her  brothers,  taking  pity 
upon  his  pining  sister,  said  to  her  that  he  would  go  and  kill  her  some  fresh 
venison,  to  entice  her  to  eat.  He  started  early  in  the  morning,  and  his  sister 
would  go  out  from  time  to  time,  in  the  course  of  the  day,  to  see  if  her  bro- 
ther was  returning.  Night  set  in,  and  no  indications  of  his  coming — she 
sat  up  all  night,  exhibiting  fear  and  apprehension  bordering  upon  despair — 
day  light  appeared,  and  he  did  not  come — search  was  made,  and  he  was 
finally  found  killed,  like  all  the  other  brothers.  After  this  event  the  girl  be- 
came perfectly  disconsolate,  hardly  tasting  food,  and  would  wander  in  the 
woods  the  whole  day,  returning  at  nights.  One  of  her  aunts  had  the  care 
of  her  at  this  time.  One  day  in  one  of  her  rambles  she  did  not  retirn; 
her  aunt  became  very  anxious,  and  searched  for  her,  and  continued  her 
search  daily.  On  the  tenth  day,  the  aunt  in  her  search  lost  her  way  and 
was  bewildered,  and  finally  was  benighted.  While  lying  down,  worn  with 
fatigue,  she  thought  she  heard  the  voice  of  some  one  speaking :  she  got  up, 
and  directing  her  course  to  the  spot,  she  came  upon  a  small  lodge  made 
of  bushes,  and  in  it  lay  her  niece,  with  her  fiice  to  the  ground.  She  pre- 
vailed upon  her  to  return  home.  Before  reaching  their  lodge  the  girl  stopt, 
and  her  aunt  built  her  a  small  lodge,  and  she  resided  in  it.  Here  her 
aunt  would  attend  upon  her  daily. 

One  day  as  she  lay  alone  in  her  little  lodge,  a  person  appeared  to  her 
from  on  high :  he  had  on  white  raiment  that  was  extremely  pure,  clean  and 
white:  he  did  not  touch  the  earth,  but  remained  at  some  distance  from  it. 
He  spoke  to  her  in  a  mild  tone  and  said.  Daughter,  why  do  you  remain 
here  mourning?  I  have  come  to  console  you,  and  you  must  arise,  and  I 
will  give  you  all  the  land,  and  deliver  into  your  hands  the  persons  who 
have  killed  your  brothers.  All  things  living  and  created  are  mine,  I  give 
and  take  away.  Now  therefore  arise,  slay  and  eat  of  my  dog  that  lays 
there.  You  will  go  to  your  village  and  firstly  tell  your  relatives  and  na- 
tion of  this  vision,  and  you  must  act  conformably  to  my  word  and  to  the 
mind  I'll  give  you,  and  your  enemies  will  1  put  into  your  hands.  I  will 
be  with  you  again, 

Aft'jr  this,  he  ascended  on  high.  When  the  girl  looked  to  the  place 
where  the  heavenly  being  pointed,  she  saw  a  bear.  She  arose  and  went 
home,  and  mentioned  to  her  relatives  the  vision  she  had  seen,  and  made 
a  request  that  the  people  might  be  assembled  to  partake  of  her  feast.  She 
directed  her  relations  to  the  spot  where  the  bear  was  to  be  found  j  it  waa 


132 


AINOODON    AND   NAYWADAIIA. 


I  I 


i! 


ml 


killed  and  brought  to  the  vilhigp,  and  singed  upon  a  fire,  aiul  the  feast 
was  inude,  and  the  nature  of  the  vij^ion  explained.  Preparations  were  im- 
medialely  set  on  foot,  messengers  were  sent  to  each  tribe  of  the  six  nations, 
and  an  invitation  given  to  them,  to  como  upon  a  given  day  to  the  village 
of  Toronto.  ]\Iessengers  were  also  sent  iill  along  the  north  coast  of  lake 
Huron  to  Bawiting,  inviting  the  Indians  to  form  an  alliance  and  fight 
against,  the  enemies  of  the  young  girl  who  had  lost  so  many  brothers. 

In  the  midst  of  the  Nadowas,  there  lived  two  chieftains,  twin  brothers. 
They  were  Nadowas  also  of  the  Bear  tribe,  perfect  devils  in  disposition, 
cruel  and  tyrannical.  They  were  at  the  head  of  two  nations  of  the  Na- 
dowas, reigning  together,  keeping  the  other  nations  in  great  fear  and  awe, 
and  enslaving  them  ;  particularly  the  Indians  of  Mie  Deer  totem,  who  re- 
sided in  one  portion  of  their  great  village.  Indians  in  connection  with 
the  Chippewas  were  e.lso  kept  in  bondage  by  the  two  tyrants,  whose  names 
were  Ain/^^odon,  and  Naijwadaha.  When  the  Chippewas  received  the 
young  girl's  messengers,  they  were  tohl  that  they  must  rescue  their  re- 
latives, and  secretly  apprize  them  of  their  intention,  and  the  great 
calamity  that  would  befall  Aingodon  and  Nay  wadaha's  villages  and  towns. 
Many  therefore  made  their  escape  ;  but  one  remained  with  his  family, 
sending  an  excuse  for  not  obeying  the  summons,  as  he  had  a  great  quan- 
tity of  corn  laid  up,  and  that  he  must  attend  to  his  crops.  The  Indians  all 
along  the  north  shore  of  lake  Huron  and  of  Bawiting,  embarked  to  join 
the  general  and  common  cause;  they  passed  through  the  lakes,  and 
reached  Toronto  late  in  the  fall.  In  the  beginning  of  the  winter  the  a.ssem- 
bled  allies  marched,  headed  by  the  young  girl.  She  passed  through  lake 
Simcoe,  and  the  line  covered  the  whole  lake,  cracking  the  ice  as  they 
marched  over  it.  They  encamped  at  the  head  of  the  laue.  Here  the  young 
girl  produced  a  garnished  bag,  and  she  hung  it  up,  and  told  the  assembled 
multitude  that  she  would  make  chingodam ;  and  after  this  she  sent  hunters 
out  directing  tlvom  to  bring  in  eighteen  bears,  and  before  the  sun  had 
risen  high  the  bears  were  all  brought  in,  and  they  were  singed,  and  the 
feast  of  sacrifice  offered.  At  this  place  the  person'from  on  hii,fh  appeared 
to  the  girl  in  presence  of  the  assembled  multitude,  and  he  stretched 
forth  his  hand  and  shook  hands  with  her  only.  He  here  directed  her  to 
send  secri:t  messengers  into  the  land,  to  warn  the  Indians  who  had  the 
deer  totem  to  put  out  their  totems  on  poles  before  their  lodge  door,  in . 
order  that  they  might  be  known  and  saved  from  the  approaching  destruc- 
tion ;  and  they  were  enjoined  not  to  go  out  of  their  loilges,  neither  man, 
woman,  or  child  ;  if  they  did  so  they  would  be  surely  consumed  and  de- 
stroyed ;  and  the  person  on  high  said — Do  not  approach  nigh  the  open  plain 
until  the  rising  sun,  you  will  then  see  destruction  come  upon  your 
enemies,  and  they  will  be  delivered  into  your  hands. 

The  messengers  were  sent  to  the  Deer  Totems,  and  they  entered  the 
town  at  night,  and  communicated  their  message  to  them.   After  this  all 


ThJ 

chew  I 
couraJ 


AINGODON    AND    NAYWAnAIIA, 


133 


tlie  Indians  bcnring  tlint  mark  weix'  informed  of  tlic  npproacliingcaliimity, 
and  tliey  instantly  made  preparations,  setting  out  poles  beforo  tlieii  lodge 
doors,  and  attaching  deer  skins  to  the  poles,  as  marks  to  escape  the  ven- 
geance that  was  to  eonie  njion  Aingodon  and  Nawadaha,  and  their  tribes. 
The  next  mortn'ng  at  daylight  tlic  Aitigodons  and  Nawadahas  rose,  and 
seeing  the  poles  and  deer  skins  planted  before  the  doors  of  the  lodges, 
j^iiid  iti  (li'risidn,  that  their  friends,  the  Deer  'I'oteniS,  had,  or  imist  have  had, 
bad  d  renins,  ill  ns  to  set  their  totems  on  pole?;.  'I'he  Indians  of  the  deer  totems 
rcnuiineil  (|iiii  t  and  silent,  and  they  did  not  venture  out  of  their  lo.lj^es.  The 
yonng  girl  was  nigh  the  skirls  oflln'  wooil  with  her  host,  boiileiing  njion 
the  plain  ;  and  just  as  the  sun  rose  she  niarciied,  and  as  she  and  her  allied 
forces  neared  the  village  of  the  twin  tyrants,  it  became  a  fliimt;  of  fire,  de- 
stroying all  its  inhabitants.  The  Deer  Totems  escaped.  Aingodon  and  Na- 
wadaha we(e  not  consumed.  The  allied  Indians  drew  their  bows  and  shot 
their  arrows  at  them,  but  they  bounded  off,  and  the  blows  inflicted  upon 
them  were  of  no  avail,  until  the  young  girl  came  up  and  subdued  them, 
and  took  them  alive,  and  made  them  prisoners. 

The  whole  of  Aiii;::odon's  and  Nawadaha's  towns  and  villages  were 
destroyed  in  the  same  way ;  and  the  land  was  in  possession  of  the  young 
girl  and  the  six  remaining  tribes  of  the  Nadowas.  After  tliis  signal  ven- 
geance was  t;ik(>n  the  young  girl  returned  with  her  host,  and  again  en- 
camped at  tlic  head  of  lake  Simcoc,  at  her  former  encamping  place;  and 
the  two  tyrants  were  asked,  what  was  their  object  for  making  chingodam, 
and  what  weight  could  it  have?  They  said,  in  answer,  that  their  imple- 
ments for  war,  were  war  a.ves,  and  if  permitted  they  would  make  chingodam, 
and  on  doing  so  they  kdled  each  two  men.  They  were  bound  immediately, 
and  their  flesh  was  cut  of]'  from  their  bodies  in  slices.  One  of  Item  was 
dissected,  and  upon  examination  it  was  discovered  tliat  he  had  no  liver, 
and  his  heart  was  small,  and  composed  of  hard  flint  stone.  There  are 
marks  upon  a  perpendicular  ledge  of  rocks  at  the  narrows,  or  head  of  lake 
Simcoe,  visible  to  this  day,  representing  two  bou'.id  persons,  who  are  re- 
cognized by  the  Indians  of  this  generation  as  the  two  tyrants,  or  twin 
broihers,  Aingodon  and  Nawadaha.  One  of  the  tyrants  was  kept  hound, 
until  the  time  the  French  discovered  and  possessed  the  Canadas.  .and  he 
was  taken  to  Quebec.  After  this  the  young  girl  was  taken  away  by  the 
god  of  light. 

GEO.  JOHNSTON. 
Sault  Sle.  Marie,  May  \2th,  1838. 


The  Indian  warriors  of  the  plains  west  of  the  sources  of  the  Mississippi, 
chew  a  bitter  root,  before  going  into  battle,  which  they  suppose  imparts 
courage,  and  renders  them  insensible  to  pain.     It  is  called  zhigowak. 


It  :1 


1    ,  i.  i 


i  ::=»• 


A 


SKETCHES   OF  THE   LIVES   OF 


NOTED  JIED  MEN  AND   WOMEN 


WHO  HAVE  APPEARED  ON  THE  WESTERN  CONTINEiNT. 


iri! 


rVABOJEEG,  OR  THE  WHITE  FISHER. 

This  individual  has  imlclibly  interwoven  his  name  with  the  history  of 
the  Chippewa  nation,  during  the  latter  half  of  tlie  18th  centuijy.  His  nn- 
cestors  had,  from  the  earliest  times,  held  the  principal  chieftainsliip  in  lake 
Superior.  His  father,  Ma-mongaziJa,  was  the  ruling  chief  during  the 
war  of  the  conquest  of  the  Canadas  by  the  British  crown.  In  common 
with  his  tribe  and  the  northern  nations  generally,  he  was  the  fast  friend 
of  the  French  government,  and  was  present  with  his  warriors,  under  Gen. 
Montcalm,  at  the  loss  of  Quebec,  in  1759.  He  carried  u  short  speech  from 
that  celebrated  officer  to  his  people  in  the  north,  which  is  said  to  have 
been  verbally  delivered  a  short  time  before  he  went  to  the  field. 

The  period  of  the  fall  of  the  French  power  in  the  Canadas,  is  one  of 
the  most  marked  events  in  Indian  reminiscence  througliout  all  northwest 
America.  They  lefer  to  the  days  of  French  supremacy  as  a  kind  of 
golden  era,  when  all  things  in  their  afl^iirs  were  better  than  they  now  are; 
and  I  have  heard  them  lament  over  the  change  as  one  which  was 
in  every  respect  detrimental  to  their  power  and  happiness.  No  I'^uropean 
nation,  it  is  evident  from  these  allusions,  ever  pleased  them  as  well.  The 
French  character  and  manners  adapted  themselves  admirably  to  the  exist- 
ing customs  of  forest  life.  The  common  people,  who  went  np  into  the  in- 
terior to  trade,  fell  in  with  their  customs  with  a  degree  of  plasticity  and 
an  air  of  gaiety  and  full  assent,  which  no  other  foreigners  have,  nt  least  to 
the  same  extent,  shown.  7'hese  Couriers  du  Bois  had  not  much  to  boast 
of  on  the  score  of  rigid  morale  themselves.  They  had  nearly  as  much  su- 
perstition as  the  wildest  Indians.  They  were  in  fact,  at  least  nine-tenths 
of  them,  quite  as  illiterate.  Very  many  of  them  were  far  inferior  in  their 
mental  structure  and  capacity  to  the  bold,  eloquent,  and  well  formed  and 
athletic  northern  chiefs  and  hunters.  They  respected  their  religious  and 
festive  ceremonies.  They  never,  as  a  chief  once  told  rne,  latighcd  at 
them.  They  met  their  old  friends  on  their  annual  returns  from  Montreal, 
with  a  kiss.  They  took  the  daughters  of  the  red  men  for  wives,  and 
reared  large  families,  who  thus  constituted  a  strong  lond  of  union  between 

the  two  races,  which  remains  unbroken  at  this  day. 

134 


WABOJEEQ,   OR   THE    WHITE   FISIICR. 


This  is  the  true 


)f  the 


efTor 


ladc  by  lii 


135 


and 


I  strenuous  ( 
western  Indians  to  sustain  the  French  power,  when  it  was  menaced  in  Iho 
war  of  1''44,  by  the  lieets  and  armies  of  Great  Urituin.  Tiicy  ralhed 
freely  to  their  aid  at  Detroit,  Vincennes,  the  present  sites  of  Pittsburjj  and 
Eri*',  at  Fort  Niagara,  Montreal,  and  Quebec,  and  they  hovered  with  in- 
furiated zeal  around  the  outskirts  of  the  northern  and  western  settlements, 
diirinjj  the  many  and  sanguinary  wars  carried  on  between  the  English 
and  French.  And  when  the  French  were  beaten  they  still  adhered 
to  their  cause,  and  their  chiefs  stimulated  the  French  local  commanders  to 
continue  and  renew  the  contest,  even  after  the  fall  of  Niagara  and  Quebec, 
wuh  a  heroic  consistency  of  purpose,  which  reflects  credit  upon  their  fore- 
sight, bravery,  and  constancy.  We  hope  in  a  future  number  to  bring  for- 
ward a  sketch  of  the  man  who  put  himself  at  the  head  of  this  latter  eflbit, 
who  declared  he  would  drive  the  Saxon  race  into  the  sea,  who  beseiged 
Iwdve  and  took  7iine  of  the  western  stockaded  forts,  and  who  for  four  years 
and  upwards,  maintained  the  war,  after  the  French  had  struck  their  colours 
and  ceded  the  country.     We  refer  to  the  great  Algic  leader,  Pontiac. 

At  present  our  attention  is  called  to  a  cotemporary  chief,  of  equal  per- 
sonal bravery  and  conduct,  certainly,  but  who  lived  and  exercised  his  au- 
thority at  a  more  remote  point,  and  had  not  the  same  masses  and  means 
at  his  command.  Tl.is  point,  so  long  hid  in  the  great  forests  of  the  north, 
and  which,  indeed,  has  been  but  lately  revealed  in  our  positive  geography, 
is  the  ARiCA  OF  Lake  Supeuior.  It  is  here  that  we  find  the  Indian  tradition 
to  be  rife  with  the  name  of  Wabojeeg  and  his  wars,  and  his  cotemporaries. 
It  was  one  of  the  direct  consequences  of  so  remote  a  position,  that  it  with- 
drew his  attention  more  from  the  actual  conflicts  between  the  French  and 
English,  and  Gxed  them  upon  his  western  and  southern  frontie|s,  which 
were  menaced  and  invaded  by  the  numerous  bands  of  the  Dacotahs,  and 
by  the  perfidious  kinsmen  of  his  nation,  the  Outagamies  and  Saucs.  Ho 
came  into  active  life,  too,  as  a  prominent  war  leader,  at  the  precise  era 
when  the  Canadas  had  fallen  into  the  British  power,  and  by  engaging 
zealously  in  the  defence  of  the  borders  of  his  nation  west,  he  allowed  time 
to  mitigate  and  adjust  those  feelings  and  attachments  which,  so  far  as  pub- 
lic policy  was  concerned,  must  be  considered  to  have  moulded  the  Indian 
mind  to  a  compliance  with,  and  a  submission  to,  the  British  authority. 
W^abojeeg  was,  emphatically,  the  defender  of  the  Chippewa  domain  against 
the  efforts  of  other  branches  of  the  Red  Race.  He  did  not,  therefore,  lead 
his  people  to  fight,  as  his  fathei,  Ma-mongazida,  and  nearly  all  the  great 
Indian  war  captains  had,  to  enable  one  type  of  tlie  foreign  race  to  triumph 
over  another,  but  raised  his  parties  and  led  thorn  forth  to  maintain  his  tribal 
supremacy.  He  may  be  contemplated,  therefore,  as  having  had  a  more 
patriotic  object  for  his  achievement. 

Lake  Superior,  at  the  time  of  our  earliest  acquaintance  with  the  region, 
was  occupied,  as  it  is  at  this  day,  by  the  Chippewa  race.     The  chief  seat 


J. 


136 


YfABOihl.a,    OR   TUK    WIIlTi;    FISIIKR. 


of  their  power  appeared  to  lie  near  llie  sdiiilnvesterii  extreinity  of  the  lake, 
at  Chagoiiiiegori,  where  i.illieis  .MunjiitUc  ami  Allot'/  I'uuiitl  llieir  wuy, 
and  eslablislu'il  a  mission,  so  e.uly  as  \i)i)H.  Aiioliier  of  ilicir  principal, 
and  probably  tnorc  aiu  w.il  seats,  was  at  the  great  rapida  on  tiie  ouilut  of 
that  lake,  wliich  they  named  the  Sanit  de  Ste.  Maiie.  It  was  in  allusion 
to  their  residence  here  that  they  called  this  tribe  Saulteur,  that  is  to  say 
people  ol'the  leap  or  lapid. 

Indian  tradition  makes  the  Chippcwus  one  of  the  cliietj  certainly  by  fa* 
the  most  nu.nircus  and  iviilili/  sjjridil,  of  the  AlgoiKjnin  stoclc  proper,  h 
represents  them  to  have  migrated  from  the  east  to  tlie  west.  On  leachinij 
the  vicinity  of  iMichiliinaeliinac,  they  separated  ut  a  comparatively  mo- 
derate era  into  three  tribes,  calling  themselves,  respectively,  <Jdjibwas, 
Odawas,  and  Podawadumees.  What  their  name  was  before  this  era,  is 
not  known.  It  is  manifest  that  the  term  Udjibwa  is  not  a  very  ancient  one 
for  it  does  not  occur  in  the  earliest  anlhors.  They  were  probably  of  the 
Nipercineun  or  true  Algoncpiin  stock,  and  had  taken  the  route  of  the  Utawas 
river,  from  the  St.  Lawrence  valley  into  lake  Huron.  The  term  itself  is 
cleaily  from  Bwa,  a  voice;  and  its  preli.x  in  Odji,  was  probably  designed 
to  mark  a  peculiar  intonation  which  the  muscles  are,  us  it  were,  gathered 
up,  to  denote. 

Whatever  be  llu^  facts  of  their  origin,  they  had  taken  the  route  up  the 
straits  of  St.  Miiry  into  lake  Superior,  both  sides  of  which,  and  far  beyoudj 
they  occuj)ied  at  the  era  of  the  French  discovery.  It  is  evident  that  their 
course  in  this  direction  must  have  been  aggressive.  They  were  advanc- 
ing towards  the  west  and  northwest.  'I'he  tribe  known  as  Kenistenos, 
had  passed  through  the  Lake  of  the  Woods,  through  the  great  lake  Nipe- 
sing,  and  as  far  as  the  heads  of  the  Saskatchewine  and  the  portajje  of  the 
Missinipi  of  Hudson's  bay.  The  warlike  band  of  Leech  Lake,  called 
Mukundwas,  had  spread  themselves  over  the  entire  sources  of  the  Missis- 
sippi and  extended  their  hunting  excursions  west  to  Itttd  River,  where  they 
came  into  contact  with  the  Assinaboines,  or  Stone  Sioux.  The  central 
power,  at  this  era,  still  remained  at  Chagoimegon,  on  Sujicrior,  where  in- 
deed, the  force  of  early  trtidition  asserts  there  was  maintained  something 
like  a  frame  of  both  civil  and  ecclesiastical  polity  and  govermnent. 

It  is  said  in  the  traditions  related  to  me  by  the  Chippewas,  that  the  Ou- 
tagamies,  or  Foxes,  had  preceded  them  into  that  partii-ular  section  of  coun- 
try which  extends  in  a  general  course  from  the  head  of  Fox  Itiver,  off  Ireen 
Bay,  towards  the  Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  reaching  in  some  points  well  nigh 
to  the  borders  of  lake  Superior.  They  are  remembered  to  have  occupied 
the  interior  wild  rice  lakes,  which  lie  at  the  sources  of  the  Wisconsin,  the 
Ontonagon,  the  Chippewa,  and  the  St.  Croix  rivers.  They  were  as.sociated 
with  the  Saucs,  who  had  ascended  the  Mississippi  some  distance  above  the 
Falls  of  St.  Anthony,  where  they  lived  on  friendly  terms  with  the  Dacotahs 
or  Siou.x.     This  friendship  extended  also  to  the  Outagamies,  and  i:  was 


Ch 


lai 


WAllOJKIUi,   OR   TIIK    WIIITK    FIHIIKR. 


137 


(ho  menus  of  picscrviii),'  a  good  uiiilurstundiiig  bctwei'ii  the  Dacotuhs  anil 
Chipiii.'WQS. 

Tlie  i'ox  liilK)  is  clcwly  alfiliiitcil  witli  llio  Cli'ppf.'was.  Tlicy  Ciill 
each  other  bicjilierf.  I'licy  uiu  ol  tliu  >:iiiiu  yrncnil  )iiyiii  and  spfali  llie 
eamij  giMieral  laiif^iiagu,  tluj  i'liiurdi(ll;rfiico  in  soniul  Uing  that  tlie  t'oxis 
use  thi'  litti'i-  1,  wlicic;  tliij  Diijiliwas  t'ni|)h)y  an  n.  TIn'  particular  caiisnj  of 
tln'ir  di.sa^fixriiiciit  is  mil  iiiunvn.  'I'ln^y  arc  s'tui  liy  tlio  (Jlii|)|ii'\vas  tu 
liavd  lici'ii  iMil.titliliil  ami  triMclirrous.  Inilividuai  i|iiarri'ls  and  tn  »paitMt.s 
on  tlirir  iiiintin;,'  groumls  lt;d  to  niiirdi'ts,  and  in  tlic  I'nd  t»  a  war,  in  u  liicli 
the  .\h'noniuiR'i'S  and  tiiu  FriMicli  united,  ami  tliey  were  llins  diiven  iVoia 
tile  rici.'  laiki.s  and  away  from  tlic  I''ox  and  u|)pt'r  WiMVjn.siii.  'I'o  main- 
tain tiieir  nusitiun  tliey  Imnied  an  alliance  witli  tlie  Sioux,  •"..}.  .'ought  by 
their  side. 

It  was  in  this  contest  that  Wabojeo";  first  dis'ingiiished  liini&elf,  and  vin- 
dicated by  his  bmvery  and  address  the  former  repMation  of  his  family, 
and  laid  anew  the  foundations  of  his  norllieni  chieflaindom,  i  hiving 
heard  allusions  made  to  this  person  on  my  first  entrance  into  tiiat  region, 
many  years  ago,  I  made  particular  eiapiiriis,  and  found  living  a  sister, 
un  old  while-headed  womai  ami  a  son  and  dauglitir,  about  ihe  age  of 
middle  life.  Fioni  llie.se  sources  I  gleaned  the  following  facts.  He  was 
horn,  us  nearly  as  I  could  com])Ute  the  time,  about  17  17.  By  a  singular 
and  romantic  incident  his  fiitlur,  INIa-mongazida,  was  a  hall-brolher  of  the 
lather  of  Walmshaw.  a  celebrated  Siou.v  chief,  who  but  a  few  yeors  ago 
died  at  his  village  on  the  upjior  Mississippi.  The  connexion  happened  in 
this  way. 

While  the  Sioux  and  Chippcwas  were  living  in  amity  nt'ur  each  other, 
and  frequently  met  and  feasted  each  other  on  llieir  hunting  grounds  and 
at  their  villages,  a  Sioux  cjiief,  of  distinction,  admired  and  married  a  Chip- 
pewa girl,  by  whom  he  had  two  sons.  When  the  war  between  these  two 
nations  broke  out,  those  persons  of  llic  hostile  tribes  who  had  married 
Chippewa  wives,  and  were  living  in  the  Chippewa  country,  withdrew, 
some  taking  their  wives  along  and  others  separating  from  them.  Among 
the  latter  was  the  Sioux  chief  He  remained  a  short  time  alter  hos-tilities 
commenced,  but  finding  his  position  deirianded  it,  he  was  compelled,  with 
great  relucl;ince,  to  lea\e  his  wife  behinti,  as  she  could  not,  wit'i  safety, 
have  accompanied  him  into  the  Sioux  territories.  As  the-  blood  of  the 
Sioux  flowed  in  the  veins  of  her  two  sons,  neither  was  it  safe  for  her  to 
leave  them  among  the  Cliippewas.  'i'hey  were,  however,  by  mutual 
agreement,  allowed  to  return  with  the  father.  The  eldest  of  these  sons 
became  the  father  of  Wabasbaw. 

The  mother  thus  divorced  by  the  mutual  consent  of  idl  parties,  re- 
mained inconsolable  for  home  lime.  She  was  still  yoiiiiu'  and  hamlsome, 
and  after  a  few  yi't's,  bi  came  the  wife  of  a  young  (Jhippewa  chief  of 
Chicroimeiron,  of  the  lioiiuiued  totem  of  i!ie  A  hoick  or  reindeer.     Her 


138 


WABOJEEO,   OR   THE   WHITE   FISHER. 


first  child  by  this  second  marriage,  was  Ma  Mongazida,  the  fathei  of 
Wabojeeg.  In  this  manner,  a  connexion  existed  between  two  families, 
of  separate  hostile  nations,  each  of  which  distinguished  itself,  for  bravery 
and  skill  in  war  and  council.  It  has  already  been  stated  that  Ma  Monga 
zida,  was  present,  on  the  side  of  the  French,  in  the  great  action  in  which 
both  Montcalm  and  Wolf  fell,  and  he  continued  to  exercise  the  chieftain 
snip  till  his  death,  when  his  second  son  succeeded  him. 

It  was  one  of  the  consequences  of  the  hostility  of  the  Indians  to  the 
English  rule,  that  many  of  the  remote  tribes  were  left,  for  a  time,  without 
traders  to  supply  their  wants.  This  was  the  case,  tradition  asserts,  with 
Chagoimegon,  which,  for  two  years  after  the  taking  of  old  Mackinac,  was 
left  without  a  trader.  To  remonstrate  against  this.  Ma  Mongazida  visited 
Sir  William  Johnson,  the  superintendant  general  of  Indian  affairs,  by 
whom  he  was  well  received,  and  presented  with  a  broad  wampum  belt  and 
gorget.  This  act  laid  the  foundation  of  a  lasting-  peace  between  the  Chip- 
pewas  and  the  English.  The  belt,  it  is  added,  was  of  blue  wampum, 
with  figures  of  white.  And  when  Wabojeeg  came  to  the  chieftamship,  he 
took  from  it  the  wampum  employed  by  him  to  muster  his  wai  parties. 

In  making  traditionary  enquiries  I  have  found  that  the  Indian  narra- 
tors were  careful  to  preserve  and  note  any  fact,  in  the  early  lives  of  their 
distinguished  men,  which  appeared  to  prefigure  their  future  eminence,  or 
had  any  thing  of  the  wonderful  or  premonitory,  in  its  character.  The 
following  incident  of  this  sort,  was  noticed  respecting  this  chief  Ma 
Mongazida  generally  went  to  make  his  fall  hunts  on  the  middle  grounds 
towards  the  Sioux  territory,  taking  with  him  all  his  near  relatives,  amount- 
ing usually  to  twenty  persons,  exclusive  of  children.  Early  one  morning 
while  the  young  men  were  preparing  for  tiie  chase,  they  were  startled  by 
the  report  of  several  shots,  directed  towards  the  lodge.  As  they  had 
thought  themselves  in  security,  the  first  emotion  was  surprise,  and  they 
had  scarcely  time  to  fly  to  their  arms,  when  another  volley  was  fired, 
which  wounded  one  man  in  the  thigh,  and  killed  a  dog.  Ma  Mongazida 
immediately  sallied  out  with  his  young  men,  and  pronouncing  his  name 
aloud  in  the  Sioux  language,  demanded  if  Wabasha  or  his  brother,  were 
among  the  assailants.  The  firing  instantly  ceased — a  pause  en.>uod,  when 
a  tall  figure,  in  a  war  dress,  with  a  profusion  of  feathers  upon  his  head, 
stepped  forward  and  presenttn  bis  hand.  It  was  the  elder  Wabasha,  his 
half  brother.  The  Sioux  peaceably  followed  their  leader  into  the  lodge, 
upon  which  they  had,  the  moment  before,  directed  their  shots.  At  the  in- 
stant the  Sioux  chief  entered,  it  was  necessary  to  stoop  a  little,  in  passing 
the  door.  In  the  act  of  stooping,  he  received  a  blow  from  a  war- 
club  wielded  by  a  small  boy,  who  had  posted  himself  there  for  the  pur- 
pose. It  was  the  young  Wabojeeg.  Wabasha,  pleased  with  this  early 
indication  of  courage,  took  the  little  lad  in  his  arms,  caressed  him,  and 


WABOJEEO,   OR   THE    WHITE    FlbHER. 


139 


pronounced  that  he  would  become  a  brave  man,  and  prove  an  inveterate 
enemy  of  the  Sioux. 

The  border  warfare  in  which  the  father  of  the  infant  warrior  was  con- 
stantly en<^ng('d,  early  initiated  him  in  the  arts  and  ciTtiiionios  pertaining 
to  war.  With  the  eager  interest  and  love  of  novtliy  of  the  young,  he  lis- 
tened to  their  war  songs  and  war  stories,  and  longed  for  the  time  when 
he  would  be  old  enough  to  join  these  parties,  and  also  make  himself  a 
name  among  warriors.  While  quite  a  youth  he  volunteered  to  go  out 
with  a  party,  and  soon  gave  convincing  proofs  of  Jiis  courage.  He  also 
early  learned  the  arts  of  hunting  the  deer,  the  bear,  the  moose,  and  all  the 
smaller  animals  common  to  the  country  ;  and  in  these  pursuits,  he  took 
the  ordinary  lessons  of  Indian  young  men,  in  abstinence,  sufl'ering,  dan- 
ger and  endurance  of  fatigue.  In  this  manner  his  nerves  were  knit  and 
foimed  for  activity,  anil  his  mind  stored  with  those  lessons  of  caution 
which  are  the  result  of  local  experience  m  the  forest.  He  possessed  a  tall 
and  commanding  person,  with  a  full  black  piercing  eye,  and  the  usual 
features  of  his  countrymen.  He  had  a  clear  and  full  toned  voice,  and 
spoke  his  native  language  with  grace  and  fluency.  To  these  attractions, 
he  united  an  early  reputation  for  bravery  and  skill  in  the  chase,  and  at 
the  age  of  twenty -tw^o,  he  was  already  a  war  leader. 

Expeditions  of  one  Indian  tribe  against  another,  require  the  utmost 
caution,  skill,  and  secrecy.  There  are  a  hundred  things  to  give  informa- 
tion to  such  a  party,  or  influence  its  action,  which  are  unknown  to  civilized 
nations.  The  breaking  of  a  twig,  the  slightest  impression  of  a  foot  print, 
and  other  like  circumstances,  determine  a  halt,  a  retreat,  or  an  advance. 
The  most  scrupulous  attention  is  also  paid  to  the  signs  of  the  heavens,  the 
flight  of  birds,  and  above  all,  to  the  dreams  and  predictions  of  the  jossakeed, 
priest,  or  prophet,  who  accompanies  them,  and  who  is  entrusted  with  the 
sacred  sack.  The  theory  upon  which  all  these  parties  are  conducted,  is 
secrecy  and  stratagem :  to  steal  upon  the  enemy  unawares  ;  to  lay  in  am- 
bush, or  decoy  ;  to  kill  and  to  avoid  as  much  as  possible  the  hazard  of 
being  killed.  An  intimate  geographical  knowledge  of  the  country,  is  also 
required  by  a  successful  war  leader,  and  such  a  nan  piques  himself,  not 
only  on  knowing  every  prominent  stream,  hill,  valley,  wood,  or  rock,  but 
the  particular  productions,  animal,  and  vegetable,  of  the  scene  of  opera- 
tions. When  it  is  considered  that  this  species  of  knowledge,  shrewdness 
and  sagacity,  is  possessed  on  both  sides,  and  that  the  nations  at  war  watch 
each  other,  as  a  lynx  for  its  prey,  it  may  be  conceived,  that  many  of  these 
border  war  ])arties  are  either  light  skirmishes,  sudden  on-rushes,  or  utter 
failures.  It  is  seldom  that  a  close,  well  contested,  long  continued  hard 
baule  is  fought.  To  kill  a  few  men,  tear  off  their  scalps  in  haste,  and 
retreat  with  these  trophies,  is  a  brave  and  honourable  trait  with  them,  and 
may  be  boasted  of,  in  their  triumphal  dances  and  warlike  festivities. 

To  glean  the  details  of  these  movements,  would  be  to  acquire  the 


140 


WABOJEEG,    OR   THE    WHITE   FISHER. 


modern  liistoiy  of  the  tribe,  which  induced  mo  to  direct  my  enquiries  to 
the  subject ;  but  the  lapse  of  even  forty  or  fifty  years,  had  shorn  tradition 
of  most  of  these  details,  nnd  often  left  the  memory  of  results  only.  The 
Chippewas  told  me,  that  this  chief  had  led  them  seven  times  to  successful 
battle  against  the  Sioux  and  the  Outagamies,  and  that  he  had  been 
wounded  thrice — once  in  the  thigh,  once  in  the  right  shoulder,  and  a 
third  time  in  the  side  and  breast,  being  a  glancing  shot.  His  war  parties 
consisted  either  of  volunteers  who  had  joined  his  standard  at  the  war 
dance,  or  of  au.viliaries,  who  had  accepted  his  messages  of  wampum  and 
tobacco,  and  come  forward  in  a  body,  to  the  appointed  place  of  rendezvous. 
These  paitie.s  varied  greatly  in  number;  his  first  party  ccmsisled  of  but 
forty  men,  his  greatest  and  most  renowned,  of  three  hundred,  who  were 
mustered  from  the  villages  on  the  shores  of  the  lake,  as  far  east  as  St. 
Mary's  fails. 

It  is  to  the  incidents  of  this  last  expedition,  which  had  an  important  in- 
fluence on  the  progress  of  the  war,  that  we  may  devote  a  few  moments. 
The  place  of  rendezvous  was  La  Pointe  Chagomiegon,  or  as  it  is  called 
in  modern  days,  La  Pointe  of  Lake  Superior.  The  scene  of  the  conflict, 
which  was  a  long  and  bloody  one,  was  the  falls  of  the  St.  Croix.  The 
two  places  are  distant  about  two  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  by  the  most  di- 
rect route.  This  area  embraces  the  sununit  land  between  Lake  Superior 
and  the  upper  Mississippi.  The  streams  flowing  each  way  interlock, 
which  enables  the  natives  to  ascend  them  in  their  light  canoes,  and  after 
carrying  the  latter  over  the  portages,  to  descend  on  the  opposite  side.  On 
this  occasion  Wabojceg  and  his  partizan  army,  ascended  the  Muskigo,  or 
Mauvais  river,  to  its  connecting  portage  with  the  Namakagon  branch  of  the 
St.  Croix.  On  crossing  the  summit,  they  embarked  in  their  small  and 
light  war  canoes  on  their  descent  westward.  This  portion  of  the  route 
was  passed  with  the  utmost  caution.  They  were  now  rapidly  approach- 
ing the  enemy's  borders,  and  every  sign  was  regarded  with  deep  attention. 
They  were  seven  days  from  the  time  they  first  reached  the  waters  of  the 
St.  Croix,  until  they  found  the  enemy.  They  went  but  a  short  distance 
each  day,  and  encamj)ed.  On  the  evening  of  the  seventh  day,  the  scouts 
discovered  a  large  body  of  Sioux  and  Outagamies  encamped  on  the  lower 
side  of  the  portage  of  the  great  falls  of  the  St.  Croix.  The  discovery  was 
a  surprise  on  both  sides.  The  advance  of  the  Chippewas  had  landed  at 
the  upper  end  of  the  portage,  intending  to  encamp  there.  Tlie  Sioux 
and  their  allies  had  just  preceded  them,  from  the  lower  part  of  the  stream 
with  the  same  object.  The  Foxes  or  Outagamie-s  immediately  fired,  and 
a  battle  ensued.  It  is  a  spot  indeed,  from  which  a  retreat  either  way  is 
impracticable,  in  the  face  of  an  enemy.  It  is  a  mere  neck  of  rugged  rock, 
The  river  forces  a  passage  through  this  dark  and  solid  barrier.  It  is 
equally  rapid  and  dangerous  for  canoes  above  and  below.  It  cannot  be 
crossed  direct     After  the  firmg  began  Wabojeeg  landed  and  brought  ud 


WABOJEEG,    OR   JIIE    WIIITK    FISHER. 


141 


his  men.  He  dircctod  a  pint  of  tliein  to  extend  themselves  in  tlie  wood 
around  tlie  srniill  nedi,  or  peninsula,  of  the  portage,  whence  iilonc  escape 
was  possible.  BotJi  parties  fought  with  bravery;  the  Fo.xes  with  despera- 
tion. But  they  were  outnumbered,  overpowered,  and  di.'feated.  Some 
attempted  to  descend  the  rapids,  and  were  lost.  A  few  only  escaped. 
But  the  Cliipjjewas  paid  dearly  for  th>:'ir  victory.  Wabqjeeg  was  slightly 
wounded  in  the  breast :  his  brother  was  killed.  Many  brave  warriors  fell. 
It  was  a  most  sanguinary  scene.  The  tradition  of  this  battle  is  one  of  the 
most  prominent  and  wide  spread  of  the  events  of  their  modern  history. 
1  have  conversed  with  more  than  one  chief,  whs  dated  his  fnst  military 
honours  in  youth,  to  this  scene.  It  put  an  end  to  their  feud  with  the 
Fo.ves,  who  retired  from  the  intermediate  rice  laUes,  and  fled  down  the 
Wisconsin.  It  raised  the  name  of  the  Chippewa  leader,  to  the  acme  of 
his  renown  among  his  people:  but  Wabojeeg,  as  humane  as  he  was 
brave,  grieved  over  the  loss  of  his  people  who  had  fallen  in  the  action. 
This  feeling  was  expressed  touchingly  and  characteristically,  in  a  war  song, 
which  he  i  lu.,  1  af:er  this  victory  which  has  been  preserved  by  the 
late  Mr.  Johi"  t(,      '  ,:i.  Mary's,  in  the  following  stanzas. 

On  tl. ..  ^uy  when  our  heroes  lay  low — lay  low, 

On  that  day  when  our  heroes  lay  low, 
I  fought  by  their  side,  and  thought  ere  1  died, 

Just  vengeance  to  take  on  the  foe, 

Just  vengeance  to  take  on  the  foe. 

On  that  day,  when  our  chieftains  lay  deid — lay  dead, 

On  tha*  day  when  our  chieftains  lay  dead, 
I  foTgnt  hand  to  hand,  at  the  head  of  my  band. 

And  here,  on  my  breast,  have  I  bled. 

And  here,  on  my  breast,  have  I  bled. 

Our  chiefs  shall  return  no  more — no  more. 

Our  chiefs  shall  return  no  more, 
Nor  their  brothers  of  war,  who  can  show  scar  for  scar. 

Like  women  their  fates  shall  deplore — deplore, 

Like  women  their  fate  shall  deplore. 

Five  winters  in  hunting  we'll  spend — we'll  spend. 

Five  winters  in  hunting  we'll  spend. 
Till  our  youth,  grown  to  men,  we'll  to  war  lead  again, 

And  our  days,  like  our  fathers,  we'll  end, 

And  our  days,  like  our  fathers,  we'll  end. 

It  Is  the  custom  of   these  tribes  to  go  to  war  in  the  spring  and 
summer,  which  arc,  not  on'y  comparatively  seasons  of  leisure  with  them. 


142 


■WAnOJEEQ,    OR   THE    WHITE   FISHER. 


but  it  is  at  these  seasons  that  they  are  concealed  and  protected  by  tho 
foliage  of  the  forest,  and  can  approach  the  enemy  unseen.  At  these  annual 
returns  of  warmth  and  vegetation,  they  also  engage  in  festivities  and  dances, 
during  which  the  events  and  exploits  of  past  years  are  sang  and  recited : 
and  while  they  derive  fresh  courage  and  stimulus  to  renewed  exertions, 
the  young,  who  are  listeners,  learn  to  emulate  their  fathers,  and  take  their 
earliest  lessons  in  the  art  of  war.  Nothing  is  done  in  the  jrnmer  months 
in  the  way  of  hunting.  The  small  furred  animals  are  changing  their 
pelt,  which  is  out  of  season.  The  doe  retires  with  her  fawns,  from  the 
plains  and  open  grounds,  into  thick  woods.  It  is  the  general  season  of 
reproduction,  and  the  red  man  for  a  time,  intermits  his  war  on  the 
animal  creation,  to  resume  it  against  man. 

As  the  autumn  approaches,  he  prepares  for  his  fall  hunts,  by  retiring 
from  the  outskirts  of  the  settlements,  and  from  the  open  lakes,  shores,  and 
streams,  which  have  been  the  scenes  of  his  summer  festivities;  and  pro- 
ceeds, after  a  short  preparatory  hunt,  to  his  wintering  grounds.  This 
round  of  hunting,  and  of  festivity  and  war,  fills  up  the  year  ;  all  the  tribes 
conform  in  these  general  customs.  There  are  no  war  parties  raised  in 
the  winter.  This  season  is  exclusively  dtvoted  to  securing  the  means  of 
their  subsistence  and  clothing,  by  seeking  the  valuable  skins,  which  are 
to  purchase  their  clothing  and  their  ammunition,  traps  and  arms. 

The  hunting  grounds  of  the  chief,  whose  life  n-e  are  considering,  ex- 
tended along  the  sotithern  shores  of  Lake  Superior  from  the  Montreal 
River,  to  the  inlet  of  the  Misacoda,  or  Burntwood  River  of  Fond  du  Lac 
If  he  ascended  the  one.  he  usually  made  the  wide  circuit  indicated,  and 
came  out  at  the  other.  He  often  penetrated  by  a  central  route  up  the 
Maskigo.  This  is  a  region  still  abounding,  but  less  so  than  formerly,  in  the 
bear,  moose,  beaver,  otter,  martin,  and  muskrat.  Among  the  smallei 
animals  are  also  to  be  noticed  the  mink,  lynx,  hare,  porcupine,  and  par- 
tridge, and  towards  its  southern  and  western  limits,  the  Virginia  deer.  In 
this  ample  area,  the  La  Pointe,  or  Chagoimegon  Indians  hunted.  It  is  a  rule 
of  the  chase,  that  each  hunter  has  a  portion  of  the  country  assigned  to  him, 
on  which  he  alone  may  hunt ;  and  there  are  conventional  laws  which  de- 
cide all  questions  of  right  and  priority  in  starting  and  killing  game.  In 
these  questions,  the  chief  exercises  a  proper  authority,  and  it  is  thus  in  the 
power  of  one  of  these  forest  governors  and  magistrates,  where  they  happen 
to  be  men  of  sound  sense,  judgment  and  manly  independence,  to  make 
themselves  felt  and  known,  and  to  become  true  benefactors  to  their  tribes. 
And  such  chiefs  create  an  impression  upon  their  followers,  and  leave  a 
reputation  behind  them,  which  is  of  more  value  than  their  achievements 
in  war. 

Wabojeeg  excelled  in  both  characters  ;  he  was  equally  popular  as  a 
civil  Tuler  and  a  war  chief;  and  while  he  administered  justice  to  his  peo- 
ple, he  was  an  expert  hunter,  and  made  due  and  ample  provision  for  his 


WABOJEEG,    OR   THE    WHITE    FISHER. 


143 


family.  He  usually  gleaned,  in  a  season,  by  his  traps  and  carbine,  four 
packs  of  mixed  furs,  the  avails  of  which  were  ample  to  provide  clothing 
for  all  the  members  of  his  lodge  circle,  as  well  as  to  renew  his  supply  of 
ammunition  and  other  essential  articles. 

On  one  occasion,  he  had  a  singular  contest  with  a  moose.  He  had 
gone  out,  one  morning  early,  to  set  martin  traps.  He  had  set  about  forty, 
and  was  returning  to  his  lodge,  when  he  une.\pectedly  encountered  a 
large  moose,  in  his  path,  which  manifested  a  disposition  to  attack  him. 
Being  unarmed,  and  having  nothing  but  a  knife  and  small  hatchet, 
which  he  had  carried  to  make  his  traps,  he  tried  to  avoid  it.  But  the  ani- 
mal came  towards  him  in  a  furious  manner.  He  took  shelter  behind  a 
tree,  shifting  his  position  from  tree  to  tree,  retreating.  At  length,  as  he 
fled,  he  picked  up  a  pole,  and  quickly  untying  his  moccasin  strings,  he 
bound  his  knife  to  the  end  of  the  pole.  He  then  placed  himself  in  a 
favourable  position,  behind  a  tree,  and  when  the  moose  came  up,  stabbed 
him  several  times  in  the  throat  and  breast.  At  last,  the  animal,  exhausted 
with  the  loss  of  blood,  fell.  He  then  dispatched  him,  and  cut  out  his 
tongue  to  carry  home  to  his  lodge  as  a  trophy  of  victory.  When  they 
went  back  to  the  spot,  for  the  carcass,  they  found  the  snow  trampled 
down  in  a  wide  circle,  and  copiously  sprinkled  with  blood,  which  gave  it 
the  appearance  of  a  battle-field.  It  proved  to  be  a  male  of  uncommon 
eize. 

The  domestic  history  of  a  native  chief,  can  seldom  be  obtained.  In  the 
present  instance,  the  facts  that  follow,  may  be  regarded  with  interest,  as 
having  been  obtained  from  residents  of  Chagoimegon,  or  from  his  descen- 
dants. He  did  not  take  a  wife  till  about  the  age  of  thirty,  and  he  then 
married  a  widow,  by  whom  he  had  one  son.  He  had  obtained  early 
notoriety  as  a  warrior,  which  perhaps  absorbed  his  attention.  What 
causes  there  were  to  render  this  union  unsatisfactory,  or  whether  there 
were  any,  is  not  known  ;  but  after  the  lapse  of  two  years,  he  mar- 
ried a  girl  of  fourteen,  of  the  totem  of  the  bear,  by  whom  he  had  a  family 
of  six  children.  He  is  represented  as  of  a  temper  and  manners  affec- 
tionate and  forbearing.  He  evinced  thoughtfulness  and  diligence  in  the 
management  of  his  affairs,  and  the  order  and  disposition  of  his  lodge. 
When  the  hunting  season  was  over,  he  employed  his  leisure  moments  in 
adding  to  the  comforts  of  his  lodge.  His  lodge  was  of  an  oblong  shape, 
ten  fathoms  long,  and  made  by  setting  two  rows  of  posts  firmly  in  the 
ground,  and  sheathing  the  sides  and  roof  with  the  smooth  bark  of  the 
birch.  From  the  centre  rose  a  post  crowned  with  the  carved  figure  of 
an  owl,  which  he  had  probably  selected  as  a  bird  of  good  omen,  for  it  was 
neither  his  own  nor  his  wife's  totem.  This  figure  was  so  placed, 
that  it  turned  with  the  wind,  and  answered  the  purpose  of  a  weather- 
cock. 

In  person  Wabojeeg  was  tall,  being  six  feet  six  inches,  erect  in  carriage. 


II 

liiii 


lii. 


144 


WABOJEEO,    OH   THE    WIUTK    FISHER. 


and  of  slender  riiiilvc.  He  possessed  a  coininniiding  coiwitenance,  united 
to  easci  and  dignity  of  maimers.  He  was  a  ready  and  fluent  speaker, 
and  conducted  personally  tlic  negotiations  with  the  Fox  and  Sioux  nations. 
It  was  perhaps  Mveiity  years  after  the  battle  on  the  St.  Croix,  which  es- 
tablished the  Chippewa  boundary  in  that  (piarter,  and  while  his  children 
were  still  young,  that  there  came  to  his  vilLig(!,  in  tiie  capacity  of  a  trader, 
.1  young  gentleman  o(  ii  resjjectable  family  in  tiie  north  of  Irel.iml,  who 
formed  an  exalted  notion  of  his  character,  bearing,  and  warlike  exj)loits. 
This  visit,  and  his  coiiseipient  residence  on  the  lake,  diiiiiig  the  winter, 
became  an  important  era  to  the  chief,  and  has  linked  his  name  and  me- 
mory with  miineroiis  persons  in  civilized  life.  Mr.  .lohnston  asked  the 
northern  chief  for  his  youngest  daughter.  Englishman,  he  replied,  my 
daughter  is  yet  young,  and  you  cannot  take  her  as  while  men  have  too  often 
taken  our  daughters.  It  will  be  time  enough  to  think  of  complying  with 
your  request,  when  you  return  again  to  this  lake  in  the  summer.  My 
daughter  is  my  favourite  child,  and  I  cannot  part  with  her,  unless  you 
will  promise  to  acknowledge  \wr  by  such  ceremonies  as  white  men  use. 
You  must  ever  keep  her,  and  never  forsake  her..  On  this  basis  a  union 
was  formed,  a  union  it  may  be  said,  between  the  Erse  and  Algonquin 
races — and  it  was  faithfully  adhered  to,  till  his  death,  a  period  of  thirty- 
seven  years. 

Wabojeeg  had  unpaired  his  health  in  the  numerous  war  parties  which 
he  conducted  across  the  wide  summit  which  separated  his  hunting  grounds 
from  the  Mississippi  valley.  A  slender  frame,  under  a  life  of  incessant 
exertion,  brought  on  u  premature  decay.  Consumption  revealed  itself  at 
a  comparatively  early  age,  and  he  fell  before  this  insidious  disease,  in  a 
few  years,  at  the  early  age  of  about  forty-five.  He  died  in  1793  at  his 
native  village  of  Chagoimegon. 

The  incident  which  has  been  named,  did  not  fail  to  make  the  forest 
chieftain  acquainted  with  the  leading  truth  of  Christianity,  in  the  revela- 
tion it  makes  of  a  saviour  for  all  races.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  truth 
which  was  brought  to  his  knowledge  and  explained.  It  is,  of  course,  not 
known  with  what  particular  effects.  As  he  saw  his  end  approaching,  he 
requested  that  his  body  might  not  be  buried  out  of  sight,  but  placed,  ac- 
cording to  a  custom  prevalent  in  the  remoter  bands  of  this  tribe,  on  a  form 
supported  by  posts,  or  a  scaffold.  This  trait  is,  perhaps,  natural  to  the 
hunter  state. 

My  friends  when  my  spirit  is  fled — is  fled 

My  friends  when  my  spirit  is  fled. 
Ah,  put  me  not  bound,  in  the  dark  and  cold  ground, 

Where  light  shall  no  longer  be  shed — be  shed. 

Where  day-light  no  more  shall  be  shed. 


Wri 
Englis 
Ifdiph 
redund 
follow 
genera 
of  e,  i, 
the  letl 
seen  al 


WABOJEEG.   OR   THE   WHITE   FISHER 

But  lay  me  up  scaffolded  high — all  high, 

Chiefs  lay  me  up  scaffolded  high, 
Where  my  tribe  shall  still  say,  as  they  point  to  my  clay, 

He  ne'er  from  the  foe  sought  to  fly—  to  fly, 

He  ne'er  from  the  foe  sought  to  fly. 

And  children,  who  play  on  'be  si  the  shore, 

And  children  who  play        he  shi 
As  the  war  dance  they  beat,  my  name  snail  repeat, 

And  the  fate  of  their  chieftan  deplore — deplore, 

And  the  fate  of  their  chieftain  deplore. 


145 


1:1  : :. 

.IP  '■■ 


MODE   OP   WRITING  AN   INDIAN   LANGUAGE.. 

The  rules  of  utterance  of  these  tribes,  after  all  that  has  been  said  ana 
written  on  the  subject,  are  very  simple,  and  determine  the  orthography,  so 
far,  at  least,  as  relates  to  distinctions  for  the  long  and  short  vowels.  If,  in 
writing  Indian,  the  syllables  be  separated  by  hyphens,  there  need  be  no 
uncertainty  respecting  their  sounds,  and  we  shall  be  saved  a  world  of 
somewhat  over  nice  disquisition.  A  vowel  preceded  by  a  consonant,  is 
always  long,  a  vowel  followed  by  a  consonant  is  always  short.  A  vowel 
between  two  consonants,  is  short. ""  A  vowel  standing  by  itself  is  always 
full  or  long.     A  few  examples  of  well  known  words  will  denote  this. 


On  ta'  ri  o. 
Ni  ag'  ar  a. 
O  we'  go. 
Ti  6  ga. 
Os  we  go. 
I'-o-wa. 
Wis  con*  sin. 
Chi  ca  go. 


Wa  bash. 
Pe  6  ri  a. 
Ti  con  de  ro  ga. 
Mis  siss  ip  pi. 
O  nei  da. 
Al  ab  a  ma 
O  tis'  CO. 
Or  e  ffon. 


Write  the  words  by  whatever  system  of  orthography  you  will,  French, 
English,  or  German,  and  the  vowel  sounds  will  vindicate  this  distinction. 
If  diplithongs  have  been  used,  for  simple  vowels,  through  early  mistake  or 
redundancy,  the  rule  is  the  same.  If  tlicy  appear  ns  proppr  diphthongs,  they 
follow  the  rule  of  diphthongs.  This  principal  of  utterance  appears  to  be  a 
general  and  fixed  law  in  the  Indian  languages  as  respects  the  sounds 
of  e,  i,  0,  u,  a.\id  the  two  chief  sounds  of  a,  1  and  3  of  Walker's  Key.  As 
the  letter  a  Las  four  distinct  sounds,  as  in  English,  the  chief  discrepancies, 
seen  above,  will  appear  in  the  use  of  this  letter. 


10 


SKETCHES  OF  THE  LIVES  0  ' 


NOTED  RED  MEN  AND  WOMEN, 


WHO  HAVE  APPEARED  ON  THE  WESTERN  CONTINENT. 


BRANT,  RED  JACKET,  UNCAS,  MIONTONIMO. 

«  NOTICE  OF  THE  BIOORArillEB  OF  THE   LATE  COL.  WILLIAM  L.  BTONE,  PREPARED  FOR  THE 

DEMOCRATIC   REVIEW — 1843. 


The  Egyptians  embalmed  their  dead  in  myrrh  and  spices,  but  the 
blessed  art  of  printing  has  given  us  a  surer  and  less  revolting  method  of 
preserving  and  transmitting  to  posterity,  all  that  is  truly  valuable  in  the 
plaudits  of  virtue,  worth,  and  honor.  Books  th  •  become  a  more  perma- 
nent memorial  than  marble,  and  by  their  diu  -n  scatter  those  lessons 
among  all  mankind,  which  the  age  of  mounds  and  hieroglyphics,  stone 
and  papyrus,  had  confined  to  the  tablet  of  a  shaft,  or  the  dark  recesses  of 
a  tomb  or  a  pyramid.  It  is  never  to  be  forgotten,  that  in  the  development 
of  this  new  phasis  in  the  history  of  the  human  race,  it  was  printing  thst 
first  lit  the  lamp  of  truth,  and  has  driven  on  the  experiment,  till  the  boun- 
daries of  letters  have  well  nigh  become  co-extensive  with  the  world.  If 
we  do  not  widely  err,  there  is  no  part  of  the  globe,  wiiere  books  of  all  de- 
scriptions have  become  so  cheap  and  abundant  as  they  are  at  this  time  in 
the  United  States,  and,  laying  aside  all  other  considerations,  we  may  find 
a  proof  of  the  position  stated  in  the  fact,  that  our  vernacular  literature  is  no 
longer  confined  to  the  production  of  school  books,  the  annals  of  law  and 
divinity,  the  age  of  muddy  pamphlets,  or  the  motley  pages  of  the  newspa 
per.  We  have  no  design  to  follow  up  these  suggestions  by  showing  how 
far  the  study  of  the  natural  sciences,  the  discussion  of  political  economy, 
or  the  advances  of  belles-lettres,  have  operated  to  produce  this  result;  far 
less  to  identify  those  causes,  in  the  progress  of  western  arts  and  commerce, 
which  have  concurred  to  bring  down  the  price  of  books,  and  scatter  the 
blessings  of  an  untrammelled  press,  among  all  classes.  It  is  sufficient  for 
our  purpose  to  say  that  even  the  lives  of  our  distinguished  native  chieftains 
have  come  in  for  a  share  of  modern  notice,  and,  we  feel  proud  to  add,  of 
a  notice  which,  so  far  as  it  reaches,  is  worthy  of  the  subject.  And  should 
our  contributions  on  this  head,  for  the  last  few  years,  be  equally  well  fol- 
lowed up  for  a  few  years  to  come,  even  the  desponding  strains  of  one  of 

146 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


147 


(heir  own  impersonated  heroes  can  no  longer  be  repeated  with  perfect 
truth : 

*'  They  sink,  they  pass,  they  fly,  they  go, 
Like  a  vapor  at  morning's  dawn. 
Or  a  flush  of  light,  whose  sudden  glow 
Is  seen,  admired,  and  gone. 

"  They  died  ;  but  if  a  brave  man  bleeds, 
And  fills  the  dreamless  grave, 
Shall  none  repeat  his  name,  his  deeds. 
Nor  tell  that  he  was  brave  ?" 

To  no  one  in  our  literary  annals  is  the  public  so  much  mdebtcd  for  res- 
cuing from  oblivion  the  traits  and  character  of  the  four  celebrated  cliiefs 
whose  names  stand  at  the  head  of  this  article,  as  to  the  able  author  of  these 
biographies,  William  L.  Stone.  Gifted  with  a  keen  perception  of  the  ques- 
tions of  right  and  wrong,  which  turn  upon  the  planting  of  the  colonies 
among  barbarians,  who  more  than  idled  away  their  days  upon  a  soil 
which  they  did  not  cultivate — with  a  deep  sympathy  in  their  fate  and  for- 
tunes, on  the  one  hand,  and  tne  paramount  claims  of  letters  and  Christian- 
ity on  the  other,  he  has  set  himself  to  the  task  of  rendering  justice  to  whom 
justice  belongs,  with  the  ardor  of  a  philanthropist,  and  the  research  of  a 
historian.  He  appears  to  have  planned  a  series  of  biographies  which,  if 
completed,  will  give  a  connected  view  of  the  leading  tribes  who  occupied 
N  .V  York,  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island,  and  Massachusetts,  with  a  range 
in  the  examination  of  contemporary  men  and  collateral  topics,  which  em- 
braces a  wide  circle.  And  he  has  filled  up  the  outlines  of  his  plan,  thus 
far,  in  a  manner  which  leaves  but  little  to  glean  in  the  path  which  he  has 
trod,  if  the  extension  of  this  circle,  and  the.  large  amount  of  contempo- 
raneous matter  brought  in,  has,  in  the  minds  of  some,  abstracted  too  large 
a  share  of  attention,  and  left  the  biographies  with  less  unity  and  compact- 
ness than  they  would  otherwise  have  assumed,  this  is  exclusively  the  fault 
of  their  plan,  so  far  as  it  is  acknowledged,  and  not  of  the  execution.  And 
for  this  coBrse  of  extension  there  is  a  plea  to  be  found  m  the  nature  of  the 
subject,  in  the  treatment  of  which,  scantiness  of  material  was  often  sought 
to  be  supplied  by  the  introduction  of  collateral  and  sometimes  extraneous 
matter. 

We  propose  briefly  to  notice  the  scries  of  these  biographies  in  their 
order  of  publication.  In  his  first  work  on  Brant,  he  has  presented,  in  liv- 
ing colors,  the  great  Mohawk  of  1776,  who  rose  up  to  crush  that  confea- 
eracy  which  Washington  and  his  compeers  had  pledged  their  lives  to 
maintain.  Brant  was  a  man  of  power  and  capacities,  mental  and  physical 
beyond  his  tribe  ;  and  was  so  situated,  in  the  actual  contest,  as  to  thi.  w  a 
greater  weight  into  the  scale  against  us,  than  any  other,  or  all  of  the  hos- 
tile chiefs  of  the  Red  Race  put  together.    If  he  could  not,  like  Ariel,  call 


mm 


ml 


.MR 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


up  the  "spirits  of  the  vasty  deep,"  he  could,  at  his  bidding,  summon 
together  the  no  less  miilignniit  spirits  of  the  woods,  who  fell  upon  our 
sleeping  hamlets  with  the  fury  of  demons.  And  whether  at  Johnscn  Mall 
or  Ni.igarn,  at  Cherry  Valley  or  Schoharie,  on  the  waters  of  the  Uriskany 
or  the  Chemung,  ho  was  the  ruling  and  informing  spirit  of  the  contest. 
Such  was  the  power  he  wielded  as  commander  of  a  most  oflective  body 
of  light  troops  (for  such  are  all  Indian  warriors),  who  were  supported  by 
large  and  well  appointed  armies,  that,  like  the  electric  flashes  of  the  boding 
storm,  he  preceded  the  heavier  outbreak  by  sounding  aloud  the  wild  nol(  s 
of  terror  and  dismay.  It  was  in  this  manner  that  his  name  became 
a  talisman  on  the  frontiers,  to  conjure  up  decils  of  evil,  and  in  this  way 
also,  doubtless,  it  became  loaded  with  reproaches,  some  of  which,  as  the 
author  has  denoted,  were  due  to  other  actors  in  the  contest.  It  is  dilficult, 
however,  to  disturb  the  judgments  of  a  preceding  age,  on  the  character  of 
individuals  who  have  long  passed  off  the  stage  of  aciion,  whether  those 
judgments  be  favorable  or  unfavorable  ;  and  it  is,  in  fact,  impossible  to  re- 
verse them.  It  is  only  necessary  to  glace  backward  a  short  way,  on  the 
track  of  biography,  to  perceive  that  posterity  never  revises  the  opinions 
once  put  on  individual  character,  heroic  or  literary.  It  tries  to  forget  all 
it  can,  and  every  body  it  can,  and  never  remembers  a  long  time  any  name 
which  it  is  possible  to  forget.  It  is  willing,  we  should  infer,  to  concede 
something  to  the  great  men  among  barbarian  nations,  whose  names  have 
often  burst  upon  civilized  society  with  the  fearful  attractions  of  the  m  'cor, 
or  the  comet,  producing  admiration  in  the  beholders,  without  slopping  to 
inquire  the  true  cause.  Such  were  the  Tainerlanes,  and  the  Tippoo  Saibs 
of  the  eastern  world,  of  a  prior  age,  as  well  as  the  Mehemet  Alis  and 
Abdcl  Kaders  of  the  present.  And  such  were,  also,  with  reduced  means 
of  a'ction,  numbers  of  the  American  aboriginal  chiefs,  who,  between  the 
days  of  Manco  Capac  and  Micanopy  have  figured  in  the  history  of  tho 
western  world.  Most  of  these  men  owe  their  celebrity  to  the  mere  fact  of 
their  having  dazzled  or  astounded,  or  like  Brant  himself,  excited  the  terror 
of  those  who  opposed  them.  In  the  case  of  the  latter,  a  change  of  opin- 
ion in  those  particular  trails  which  afTect  his  humanity,  is  K;ss  readily 
made,  from  tho  fact,  yet  generally  remembered,  that  he  had  received 
a  Christian  education  ;  that  he  was,  wliile  a  mere  boy,  received  into  the 
best  society,  acquired  the  English  language,  and  had  been  instructed,  first 
at  a  New  England  academy,  and  afterwards  at  one  of  its  most  praclically 
efficient  colleges.  Posterity  holds  the  Mohawk  chief  responsibid  to  have 
carried  the  precepts  thus  obtained  into  the  forest,  and  to  have  difiused  their 
blessings  among  those  who  had  perhaps  his  bravery,  without  his  talents 
or  his  knowledge.  Those  who  fought  against  him  were  ill  qualified,  we 
confess,  to  be  his  judges.  He  had  not  only  espoused  the  wrong  cause, 
wrong  because  it  was  adverse  to  the  progress  of  national  freedom  and 
those  very  principles  his  people  contended  for ;  but  he  battled  for  it  with  a 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


149 


(1 

a 


mnstei's  hand,  and  made  the  force  of  his  energy  felt,  as  the  author  has 
more  fully  indicated  than  was  hefore  known,  t'lom  the  hanks  of  the  Mo- 
hawk and  the  Niagara,  to  the  Ohio,  the  Miami,  and  the  Wahiisii.  Yet, 
if  there  was  error  in  the  extent  to  which  he  failed  to  carry  the  preempts  ofciv- 
iliziition  and  Ciiristianity,  it  was  meet  it  should  be  pointed  out,  although  it 
will  also  be  admitted,  the  public  have  a  right  to  look  for  the  strongest  of  these 
proofs  of  a  kind  and  benevolent  feeling  towards  his  open  enemies,  out  of 
tlie  range  of  his  domestic  circle.  His  family  had  carried  the  incipient 
principles  of  civilization,  which  he  gave  ihem,  too  high — they  had  exhib- 
ited to  the  next  age,  a  too  prominent  example  of  cultivation  and  refinement 
in  every  sense — not  to  feel  deeply  theoblorpiy  cast  upon  his  name,  by  the 
poetic  spirit  of  the  times  ;  and  not  to  wish  that  one  who  had,  in  verity,  so 
many  high  and  noble  cpialities,  both  in  the  council  and  the  (ield,  should 
also  be  without  a  spot  on  his  hiunanity.  We  deem  the  feeling  as  honor- 
able to  all  who  have  the  blood  of  the  chieftain  in  their  veins  as  it  is  praise- 
worthy in  his  biograpli'^r.  We  cannot,  however,  consent  to  forget,  that 
historical  truth  is  very  severe  in  its  requisitions,  and  is  not  to  be  put  olF,  by 
friend  or  foe,  with  hearsay  testimony,  or  plausible  surmises. 

Brant  cannot,  like  Xicotenoal,  he  accused  of  h.ning  joined  the  invaders 
of  his  country,  who  were  recklessly  resolved  upon  its  subjugation  ;  but  he 
overlooked  the  fact,  that  both  the  incadcr  and  the  invathil  in  the  long  and 
bloody  border  warfare  of  the  revolution,  were,  in  all  that  constitutes  charac- 
ter, the  same  people.  They  were  of  the  same  blood  and  lineage,  spoke 
the  same  language,  had  the  same  laws  and  customs,  and  the  same  litera- 
ture and  religion,  and  he  failed  to  see  that  the  only  real  point  of  difference 
between  thern  was,  who  should  wield  the  sceptre.  Whichever  party 
gained  the  day  in  such  a  contest,  letters  and  Christianity  must  triumph, 
and  as  the  inevitable  resuh,  barbarism  must  decline,  and  the  power  of  the 
Indian  nation  fall. 

In  Brant,  barbarism  and  civilization  evinced  a  strong  and  singular  con- 
test. He  was  at  one  moment  a  savage,  and  at  another  a  civilian,  at  one 
moment  cruel,  and  at  another  humane;  and  he  exhibited,  throughout  all 
the  heroic  period  of  his  career,  a  constant  vacillation  and  struggle  between 
good  and  bad,  noble  and  ignoble  feelings,  and,  as  one  or  the  other  got  the 
mastery,  he  was  an  angel  of  mercy,  or  a  demon  of  destruction.  In  this  re- 
spect, his  character  does  not  essentially  vary  from  that  which  has  been 
found  to  mark  the  other  leading  red  men  who,  from  Philip  to  Osceola, 
have  appeared  on  the  stage  of  action.  Like  them,  his  reasoning  facuUies 
were  far  less  developed  than  his  physical  perceptions.  And  to  attempt  to 
follow  or  find  anything  like  a  fixed  principle  of  humanity,  basing  itself  on 
the  higher  obligations  that  sway  the  human  breast,  would,  we  fear,  be- 
come a  search  after  that  which  had  no  existence  in  his  mind  ;  or  if  the 
germ  was  there,  it  was  too  feeble  tc  become  predominant.  We  do  not 
think  it  necessary,  in  commenting  on  his  life,  to  enter  into  any  nice 


;!■  1 1 


\h'- 


im^ 


160 


INDIAN    RULERS. 


train  ol  ronsoning'  or  motives  to  account  fcr  this  cliarncterisiic,  or  to  recon 
cilo  cruelties  of  the  most  shockiiijj  liiml,  wlicn  contrasted  with  traits 
of  mildness  nnil  urbanity.  They  were  ditil'retii  moods  of  the  man,  and 
in  rnnninff  baeif  over  the  eventful  years  of  his  life,  it  hiconus  dear,  that 
civilization  had  never  so  completely  gained  the  mastery  over  his  mini!  and 
heart,  as  not  to  desert  him,  without  notice,  the  moment  he  heard  the  soimd 
of  the  war-whoop.  The  fact  that  he  could  use  the  pen,  supplied  no  ir»- 
superable  motive  against  his  wielding  the  war  club.  Mis  tomahawk  and 
his  'J'estament  lay  on  the  same  shelf  The  worst  trait  in  his  character  is 
revealed  in  his  tardiness  to  execute  acts  of  jniijwfrd  mercy.  Tliere  was 
too  often  some  impediment,  which  served  as  an  e.xcuse,  as  whin  he  had 
a  ploughed  field  to  cross  to  save  Wells  and  his  family,  or  a  lamo  heel,  or 
gave  up  the  design  altogether,  ns  in  the  case  of  Wisncr,  whom  he  con- 
strued it  into  an  act  of  mercy  to  tomahawk. 

That  he  was,  however,  a  man  of  an  e.xtraordinary  firmness,  courage 
and  decision  of  character,  is  without  doubt.  But  his  fate  and  fortunes 
have  not  been  such  as  to  give  much  encouragement  to  chiefs  of  the  native 
race  in  lending  their  influence  to  European,  or  Anglo-European  powers, 
who  may  be  engaged  in  hostilities  against  each  other  on  this  continent. 
Pontiac  had  realized  this  before  him,  and  Tecumtha  realized  it  alter  him. 
Neither  attained  the  object  he  sought.  One  of  tliese  chiefs  was  assassi- 
nated, the  other  fell  in  battle,  and  Brant  himself  only  survived  the  defeat 
of  his  cause,  to  fret  out  his  latter  days  in  vain  aUempts  to  obtain  justice 
from  the  power  which  he  had  most  loyally  served,  and  greatly  benelited. 
Had  he  been  knighted  at  the  close  of  the  contest,  in.stead  of  being  shuflicd 
from  one  great  man  to  another,  at  home  and  abroad,  it  would  have  been 
an  instance  of  a  noble  e.xercise  of  that  power.  But  Cleorge  III.  seemed 
to  have  been  fated,  at  all  points,  neither  to  do  justice  to  his  friends  nor  his 
enemies. 

Such  was  Brant,  or  Thayendanegeo.  symboUically;  the  Band  of  his 
tribe,*  to  whose  lot  it  has  fallentoacl  a  more  distinguished  part  in  the 
Colonies,  as  a  consummate  warrior,  than  any  other  aboriginal  chieftain 
who  has  arisen.  And  his  memory  was  well  worthy  of  the  elaborate  work 
in  which  his  biographer  has  presented  him,  in  the  most  favourable  points 
of  view,  amidst  a  comprehensive  history  of  the  border  wars  of  the  revolu- 
tion, without,  however,  concealing  atrocities  of  which  he  was,  perhaps 
sometimes  unwillingly,  the  agent. 

A  word,  and  but  a  word,  will  be  added,  as  to  some  points  connected 
with  this  chiefs  character,  which  are  not  in  coincidence  with  the  generally 
received  opinion,  or  are  now  first  introduced  by  way  of  palliation,  or  vin- 
dication. We  confess,  that  so  far  as  the  presence  or  absence  of  the  Great 
Mohawk  in  the  massacre  of  Wyoming,  is  concerned,  the  statements  arc 


*  The  name  is  usually  translated,  two-sticks  tied,  or  united. 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


151 


eilhfir  inconclusive,  or  less  satisfactory  than  could  bo  wished.  Tiiere  wua 
quite  too  much  fet<liiig  sumeliincs  evinced  by  his  family,  nud  purticulurly 
his  son  John,  to  permit  us  to  receivR  the  now  version  of  tiie  statement  with- 
out some  grains  uf  allowance.  An  inve.stJLfation  is  instituted  by  Col.  Stone 
as  to  the  iu)mcdiato  ancestry  of  Brant,  and  much  importance  is  attached 
to  the  i'lijuiry,  whether  he  was  descended  from  a  line  of  hereditary  ciiiefs. 
We  think  the  testimony  adverse  to  such  a  supposition,  ami  it  all^trds  no 
iinecpiivocal  proof  of  talents,  that  notwitlistanding  such  an  adventitiou.s 
circumstance,  certainly  without  being  of  llie  Imc  of  ruling  chiefi,  lie  ele- 
vated hi_mself  to  be,  not  only  the  head  chief  and  leader  of  his  tribe,  Ciit  of 
the  Six  Nations.  Courtesy  and  popular  will  attach  the  title  of  chief  or 
sjchem  to  men  of  talents,  courage  or  eloquence  among  our  tribus  gene 
rally ;  and  while  mere  descent  would  devolve  it  upon  a  chief's  .son,  what- 
ever might  be  his  character,  yet  this  fact  alone  would  be  of  little  import, 
and  give  him  little  influence,  without  abilities:  whereas  abilities  alone  are 
found  to  raise  men  of  note  to  the  chieftainship,  among  all  the  North 
American  tribes,  whose  customs  and  character  are  known. 

It  has  constituted  no  part  of  our  object,  in  these  general  outlines,  to  ex- 
amine minor  points  of  the  biography  or  history,  upon  which  the  information 
or  the  conclusions  are  not  so  satisfactory  as  could  be  wished,  or  which  may, 
indeed,  be  at  variance  with  our  opinions.  One  fact,  however,  connected 
with  this  name,  it  is  not  deemed  proper  to  pass  sub  sikntio.  Brant  is 
made  to  take  a  part  in  the  Pontiac  wUr,  a  contest  arising  on  the  fall  of  the 
French  power  in  Canada  in  1759,  ami  which  closed  in  17G3.  Brant 
was  at  its  close  but  twenty-one  years  of  age,  and  had  not,  it  is  probable, 
finally  returned  from  his  New  England  tutors.  At  any  rate,  there  is  no 
reason  to  suppose,  that,  at  that  early  period  of  his  life  and  his  influence, 
he  could  have  had  any  participation  in  the  events  of  that  war. 

In  the  life  of  Red  Jacket,  or  Sagoyewata,  we  have  a  different  order  of  In- 
dian intellect  brought  to  view.  He  was  an  orator  and  a  diplomatist,  and  was 
at  no  period  of  his  life  noted  for  his  skill  as  a  warrior.  Nay,  tlier.  .vr> 
indubitable  proofs  that  his  personal  courage  could  not  always  be  "  set*  ■/!.  .1 
up  to  the  sticking  point."  But  in  native  intellect,  he  was  even  superior 
to  Brant.  He  was,  indeed,  the  Brant  of  the  council,  and  often  came  down 
upon  his  opponents  with  bursts  of  eloquence,  trains  of  argurnen:,  or  rhap- 
sodies of  thought,  which  were  irresistible.  And  of  him.  it  may  be  sym- 
bolically said,  that  his  tongue  was  his  tomahawk,  and  the  grandiloquent 
vocabulary  of  the  Seneca  language,  his  war-c'ub.  Nor  has  any  native 
chieftain  wielded  the  weapon  to  more  purpose,  or  with  a  longer  continued 
effect  than  the  great  Seneca  orator.  The  specimens  of  his  eloquence 
which  have  appeared  in  our  newspapers  for  forty  years  or  more,  are  still 
fresh  in  the  memory,  and  it  was  due  and  meet  that  these  should  be  col- 
lected and  preserved  in  a  permanent  shape,  together  with  such  particulars 
of  his  life  and  career  as  could  be  obtained.     This  task  has  been  performea 


162 


INDIAN   RULEHS. 


by  Col.  Stone,  in  a  manner  which  leaves  nothing  more  to  be  attempted  on 
the  subject.  Much  zeal  and  industry  have  been  evinced  in  eliciting  facts 
from  every  quarter  where  it  was  probable  information  could  be  had.  And 
he  has  brought  together  a  body  of  contemporaneous  proofs  and  reminis- 
cences, touching  this  chief,  which  a  few  years  would  have  put  beyond  the 
power  of  recovery,  and  which  a  position  less  prominent  than  he  occupied 
as  a  public  journalist,  might  have  rendered  it  difficult  for  another  to  collect. 
We  need  only  refer  to  the  names  of  Gen.  P.  B.  Porter,  Rev.  J.  Brecken- 
ridge,  Mr.  Parish,  and  Mr.  Hosmer,  to  show  the  character  of  this  part  of 
his  materials. 

Other  chiefs  of  the  native  stock,  have  produced  occasional  pieces  of  elo- 
quence, or  admired  oratory,  but  Red-Jacket  is  the  only  prominent  individual 
who  has  devoted  his  whole  career  to  it.  That  he  did,  indeed,  excel,  pro- 
ducing effects  which  no  reported  speech  of  his  ever  equalled  or  did  justice 
to,  there  are  still  many  living  to  attest.  In  the  question  of  land  sales, 
which  arose  between  the  white  and  red  races,  there  were  frequent  occa- 
sions to  bring  him  out.  And  these,  in  the  end,  assumed  a  complicated 
shape,  from  cither  the  vague  nature,  or  ill  understood  conditions  of  prior 
grants.  In  all  these  discussions,  he  preserved  a  unity  and  consistency  in 
the  set  of  opinions  he  had  adopted.  He  was  opposed  to  further  sales,  to 
removal,  to  civilization,  and  to  the  introduction  of  Christianity  among  his 
people.  What  Brant  had  done  in  politics,  Red-Jacket  repeated  in  morals. 
Both  took  the  wfongsuIeTaml  both  failed.  But  it  is  to  be  said  of  the  Sen* 
eca  orator,  that  he  did  not  live  to  see  the  final  defeat  of  that  course 
of  policy  which  he  had  so  long  and  so  ably  advocated. 

It  was  remarked  by  Mr.  Clinton,  and  the  fact  had  impressed  others,  that 
the  Iroquois,  or  Si.>c  Nations,  excelled  the  other  natives  in  eloquence.  Of 
this,  their  history,  during  the  Supremacy  of  Holland  and  England  in  New 
York,  as  given  by  Colden,  furnishes  ample  proofs.  The  speech  of  Gar 
anguia,  against  the  Governor  General  of  Canada  and  his  wily  policy,  is 
unexcelled,  as  a  whole,  by  anything  which  even  Red-Jacket  has  left  in 
print,  though  much  of  the  effect  of  it  is  due  to  the  superior  and  heroic  po- 
sition occupied  by  the  tribes  for  whom  he  spoke.  Logan,  unexcelled  ly 
all  others  for  his  pathos  and  simplicity,  it  must  be  remembered,  was  also 
of  this  stock, — Mingo,  or  Mengwe,  as  the  Delawares  pronounced  it,  being 
but  a  generic  term  for  Iroquois  ;  so  that  the  transmission  of  this  trait,  from 
the  proud  era  of  the  Iroquois  confederacy  down  to  modern  days,  is  quite 
in  keeping  with  the  opinion  (jnoted. 

It  is  to  be  wished  that  Col.  Stone  would  supply  another  link  in  the 
chain  of  Iroquois  history,  by  favoring  the  public  with  the  life  of  the  noted 
Oneida  chief,  Shenandoah,  for  which  materials  must  exist  in  the  Kirkland 
family. 

The  lives  of  the  two  men,  Uncas  and  Miontonimo,  whose  leading  asts 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


153 


lie  described  in  one  of  the  volumes  named  in  our  caption,  belong  to  an 
earlier  period  of  history,  and  a  difFerent  theatre  of  action.  The  scene 
changes  from  western  New  York  to  the  seaboard  of  Connecticut,  llhode 
Island,  and,  to  some  extent,  Massachusetts.  Uiicas  was  the  good  genius, 
the  tutelary  spirit,  if  we  may  so  say,  of  the  colony  of  Connecticut ;  arid 
the  best  monument  which  that  State  could  erect  to  his  memory,  would  be 
to  change  the  unmeaning  and  worn  out  name  of  one  of  her  counties,  New 
London,  for  tliat  of  the  noble  and  fiiendly  chief,  of  whose  forest  kingdom 
it  once  formed  a  part.  From  the  first  day  that  the  English  colonists  set 
foot  within  it,  to  the  hour  of  his  death,  Uncas  was  the  unwavering  "  friend 
of  the  white  man,"  as  his  biographer  justly  calls  him.  He  was  of  that 
race,  wiiom  history  has,  without  making  a  particle  of  allowance  for  sav- 
age ignorance  and  hereditary  prejudice,  branded  under  the  name  of  Pe- 
quods.  They  were  of  that  type  of  languages  and  lineage,  which  was 
very  well  characterized  generically,  at  least  as  far  south  as  the  original 
country  of  the  Delawares;  but  which  assumed  a  sub-type  after  crossing 
the  Hudson,  and  was  known  east  of  that  point  under  one  of  its  superin- 
duced forms,  as  the  Mohegan.  This  term  had  been  dropped  by  the  Pe- 
quods,  if  it  was  ever  their  specific  cognomen,  but  it  is  a  proof,  and  we  think 
a  very  conclusive  proof,  of  the  yet  freshly  remembered  affiliation  with 
Taminund*  and  the  Manhattans,  that  Uncas,  the  moment  he  revolted  from 
King  Sassacus,  assumed  the  name  of  a  Mohegan,  and  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  that  tribe,  as  it  then  existed  within  the  boundaries  of  Connecticut. 
Or  rather,  he  constituted  the  revoked  Pcquods  a  new  tribe,  under  an  old 
and  respected  name,  and  he  thus  laid  the  foundation  of  the  Uncas  dynasty. 
Placed  thus  by  circumstances  in  a  position,  in  which  he  sought  an  alliance 
with  the  early  colonists,  and  finding  his  security  in  theirs,  he  was  in  fact 
the  only  leading  chief  of  the  times  who,  really,  heartily,  and  faithfully 
sought  their  prosperity  and  growth  to  the  end.  The  rise  of  Uncas  and 
Connecticut  thus  began  at  one  era  ;  and  as  the  alliance  was  founded  on 
mutual  interest  and  safety,  it  only  grew  stronger  with  time.  A  man  of 
less  force  of  character  or  natural  sagacity  than  Uncas,  would  have  vacillated 
when  he  saw  the  colonists  becoming  more  powerful  and  himself  more 
weak  as  years  rolled  on,  and  would  have  been  seduced  to  enter  into  alli- 
ances for  arresting  the  white  man's  power,  as  other  native  chiefs  had  done. 
But  all  history  concurs  in  showing  that,  under  every  circumstance,  and 
there  were  many  of  the  most  trying  kind,  ho  carried  himself  well,  and 
avoided  even  a  suspicion  of  his  fidelity. 

Uncas  was  well  qualilied  for  a  ruler  both  in  mind  and  person.  He  pos- 
sessed a  fine  figure,  over  si.^c  feet  in  height,  a  commanding  voice,  and  a 
noble  bearing.     He  was  mild  yet  dignified  in  his  manners.     He  was  not 


*  Tlie  name  of  this  cliief  is  Anglicised  in  the  word  Tammany 


154 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


only  wise  in  council,  but  brave*  in  war,  as  he  evinced  in  many  instances, 
but  particularly  in  the  battle  of  Sachem's  Plain,  in  which  he  proved  him- 
self the  bravest  and  most  chivalrous  of  the  brave.  Yet  his  wisdom  and 
moderation  in  governing  his  people,  and  the  well  balanced  justice  and  con- 
sistency of  his  character,  give  him  a  still  higher  reputation,  and  establish 
his  best  claim  to  remembrance.  In  all  the  trials  in  wiiich  he  was  placed, 
in  all  the  temptations  he  had  to  fly  into  a  rage,  and  act  out  the  savage,  he 
sustained  this  character  for  wise  deliberation  ;  and  by  adhering  to  iiis  first 
covenant  with  the  English,  and  laying  all  his  plans  and  grievances  before 
the  colonial  courts,  he  raised  himself  in  strength  and  reputation,  and  finally 
triumphed,  first  over  Sassacus,  and  then  over  Miontonimo,  the  two  great- 
est and  most  powerful  of  his  immediate  contemporaries. 

If  Uncas  was  the  patron  of  Connecticut,  Miontonimo,  with  his  family 
of  the  Narragansett  chiefdom,  was  equally  so  of  Rhode  Island.  And  it  is 
from  this  obvious  fact,  probably,  in  part,  that  we  find  the  historical  notices 
of  him,  from  the  last  quarter,  decidedly  more  favorable  to  his  genera] 
character  than  those  emanating  from  the  land  of  his  enemy  and  his  con- 
queror, Uncas.  While  there  is  no  disagreement  as  to  any  historical  fact 
of  note,  it  is  natural  that  some  little  shade  of  feeling  of  this  nature  should 
remain.  We  have  noticed  a  similar  feeling  with  respect  to  existing  tribes 
and  chiefs,  in  the  western  world,  where  the  inhabitants  never  fail  to  bo 
imbued  with  tho.se  peculiar  notions  and  traditions  of  the  particular  tribe 
about  them,  which  represent  the  latter  as  the  principal  nation,  and  invest 
them  with  tribal  traits  of  superiority.  It  is  a  feeling  which  luiins  to  the 
better  side  of  one's  nature,  and  does  ho  ior  to  men's  hearts  ;  but  the  histo- 
rian is  obliged  to  look  at  such  questions  with  a  colder  eye,  and  can  never 
abate  a  tittle  of  the  truth,  although  he  may  run  counter  to  this  local  sym- 
pathy and  bias.  We  could  name  some  remarkable  instances  of  this  preju- 
dice, if  we  were  willing  to  digress. 

If  Miontonimo  bo  compared  to  Uncas,  it  will  at  once  be  seen  that 
he  lacked  the  latter's  sagacity  and  firnmuss  of  character.  Had  the  Nar- 
ragansett listened  to  Sassacus,  and  formed  a  league  with  him,  he  would 
have  crushed,  for  a  time,  tlie  infant  colony  of  Connecticut.  This  he  de- 
clined, apparently,  because  it  had  the  specific  character  of  enabling  Sassa- 
cus to  put  down  Uncas.     After  the  Pequod  king  had  been  defeated  and 


*  The  terms  "  brave"  and  "  braves"  used  in  a  substantive  senso,  in  Uiis  work,  are 
neitlicr  English  nor  Indian.  Tiie  Indian  term  Bliouid  bo  translated  str<m|r-iu>art,  its 
literal  import  ;  for  it  is  one  of  the  general  rules  of  these  lunguugos,  that  the  operation 
of  the  adjective,  as  well  as  action  of  the  verb,  is  uniformly  marked  upon  the  substan- 
tive— there  being,  indeed,  different  inflections  of  each  substantive,  to  denote  whcthei 
this  operation  or  action  be  caused  by  a  noble  or  ignoble,  or  an  animate  or  inanimate  ob- 
ject. Still  the  general  use  of  the  Canadian  term  Brave,  on  our  Indian  border,  may 
give  it  some  poetic  claims  to  introduction  into  our  vernacular,  burthened  as  it  abeadyis 
with  more  objectionable  Americanisms. 


INDIAN    RULERS. 


155 


fled  to  the  Mohawks,  Miontonimo  was  left  in  a  position  to  assume  tlie  Pe- 
quod's  policy,  and  then  tried  to  bring  Uncas  into  just  such  a  combination 
to  fall  on  the  colonists,  as  he  had  himself  refused,  when  the  proposition 
came  from  Sassacus.  As  Uncas  not  only  refused,  but  laid  the  scheme  be- 
fore his  allies,  Miontonimo  went  to  war  against  him,  with  a  large  army. 
Uncas  hastily  prepared  to  meet  him,  with  a  smaller  force.  They  met  on 
Sachem's  Plain,  on  the  banks  of  the  Shawtuckct.  Uncas,  unwilling  to 
see  so  mnny  of  his  people  slain  in  battle,  nobly  stepped  forward  and  pro- 
posed a  personal  combat,  to  decide  the  question  of  who  should  rule,  and 
who  obey.  It  was  declined,  but  the  moment  the  reply  was  made,  he 
threw  himself  on  the  plain,  a  signal,  it  seems,  for  hjj  men  to  advance,  and 
they  came  on  with  such  an  impulse,  that  he  won  the  day  and  took  Mion- 
tonimo prisoner.  This  capture  was  the  act  of  one  cT  his  minor  chiefs; 
but  when  his  enemy  was  brought  before  him,  he  declined  exercising  his 
right  of  putting  him  to  death,  but  determined  to  refer  the  matter  to  the  au- 
thorities of  Hartford.  There  it  was  found  to  be  a  knotty  question,  and 
finally  referred  to  the  General  Court  at  Boston.  The  Court  strengthened 
itself  with  the  opinions  of  six  distinguished  clergymen  and  several  eminent 
civilians  ;  and  then  decided,  that  the  Narragansett  chief  had  justly  forfeited 
his  life,  by  violating  his  political  covenants  with  the  colonies,  but  it  might 
not  be  taken  away  by  them.  He  must  be  remanded  to  Uncas,  within  his 
jurisdiction,  and  by  him  be  executed  ;  but  it  was  enjoined,  with  a  very 
poor  compliment  to  the  known  mildness  of  the  «.!  aracter  of  Uncas,  that  no 
needless  cruelty  should  be  practised.  Here,  then,  the  white  man  evinced 
less  mercy  than  the  red  had  done.  Miontonimo  was  now  released  from 
his  confinement,  and  conducted  back  to  the  very  spot  where  he  had  first 
been  taken  prisoner,  as  he  approached  which,  one  of  the  Mohegans  who 
accompanied  him,  keeping  him  in  entire  ignorance  of  his  fate,  raised  his 
tomahawk  as  he  walked  behind  him,  and  laid  him  dead  at  a  blow. 

Whether  the  moral  responsibility  of  this  execution  rests  with  the  court, 
or  the  executioner,  we  do  not  propose  particularly  to  inquire,  nor  to  ascer- 
tain to  what  degree  it  was  shuffled  off,  by  directing  an  Indian  to  commit 
an  act  which  it  was  unlawful  for  a  white  man  and  a  Christian  to  perform. 
Hiid  Uncas  slain  his  adversary  in  cold  blood,  after  the  action,  the  thing 
would  have  been  in  perfect  accordance  with  Indian  law.  Had  Mionton- 
imo been  a  subject  of  either  of  the  colonies  of  Connecticut,  Rhode  Island 
or  Massachusetts,  and  levied  war,  or  committed  any  overt  act  of  treason, 
his  execution  would  have  been  in  accordance  with  the  laws  of  civilized 
nations.  Neither  condition  happened.  It  was,  however,  felt,  that  the 
great  disturber  of  the  colonics,  after  Sassacus,  had  now  been  caught.  He 
hail  violated  his  covenant  by  going  to  war  without  apprising  them.  They 
die  not  believe  he  would  keep  any  future  covenants.  The  moral  sense 
of  ihe  community  would  not  be  shocked,  but  rather  gratified  by  his  exe- 
cution.    This  point  was  strongly  signified  to  the  court.     But  they  could 


m 
li  'ii  li 


156 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


not  legally  compass  it.  English  law  opposed  it.  The  customs  of  civil 
izod  nations,  in  warring  with  each  other,  opposed  it.  Should  a  difToren* 
rule  be  observed  towards  the  aborigines  ?  Did  the  dictates  of  sound  judg- 
ment and  common  sense,  did  the  precepts  of  Christianity, — aye,  "there 
was  tlie  rub,"— did  the  precepts  of  Christianity  sanction  it?  On  full  de- 
liberation,— for  the  question  was  not  decided  in  haste, — neitlier  of  these 
points  could  be  aflirmatively  answered.  But  while  policy — the  policy  of 
expediency,  the  lust  of  power,  and  the  offended  moral  sense  of  an  exposed 
and  suffering  community  demanded,  as  it  was  thought,  the  death  of  the 
sachem,  still  it  was  not  found  that  one  whom  they  had  ever  treated,  and 
then  viewed,  as  a  foreign  prince,  legally  considered,  could  be  thus  de- 
prived of  his  life.  Imprisonment  was  not,  as  a  permanent  policy,  resolved 
on.  There  was  one  course  left  to  escape  both  dilemmas,  and  to  avoid  all 
censure.  It  was  to  restore  things  to  the  precise  footing  they  had  before 
his  surrender.  It  was  to  hand  him  back  to  Uncas,  without  the  expression 
of  any  decision,  leaving  that  chieftain  to  act  as  he  deemed  fit.  They  re- 
manded him  indeed,  but  went  one  step  too  far,  by  first  deciding  in  a  formal 
court,  after  months  of  deliberation,  in  the  course  of  which  the  clergy  and 
gentry,  (this  is  a  term  that  would  be  proper  to  the  times)  had  been  form 
ally  consulted,  and  directed  his  death,  stipulating  only  that  he  should  net 
be  killed  with  cruelty.  If  there  was  not  something  that  smacks  of  the 
want  of  true  and  noble  dealing  in  this — if  it  accorded  with  the  bland  pre- 
cepts of  Christianity,  to  do  unto  others  as  you  would  that  others  should  do 
unto  you — if  the  act  did  not,  in  fine,  partake  of  the  very  spirit  of  Jesuitism 
in  tlie  woist  sense  in  which  the  word  has  been  adopted  into  the  language 
we  have,  we  confess,  formed  a  totally  wrong  idea  of  its  meaning. 

A  case,  in  some  respects  similar  to  this,  happened  in  modern  times 
which  may  be  thought  to  contrast  rather  strongly  with  the  above  example 
of  Puritan  mercy.  The  reasons  for  a  capital  punishment,  were,  indeed, 
far  more  cogent,  and  the  community  called  out  strongly  for  it,  and  would 
have  sustained  it.  It  was  the  capture  of  Black  Hawk,  which,  it  will  be 
recollected,  took  place  during  tlie  first  Presidential  term  of  General  Jack- 
son. Black  Hawk  had  levied  war  within  the  boundaries  of  one  of  the 
States,  on  lands  ceded  by  treaty,  and  organized  a  confederacy  of  Indian 
tribes,  which,  though  broken  up  in  part,  chiefiy  through  the  failure  of  the 
other  tribes  to  fulfil  their  engagements  with  him,  yet  recjuired  for  its  sup- 
pression the  entire  disposable  force  of  the  Union.  The  Sac  chief  was 
finally  captured  on  Indian  territory,  in  the  act  of  fleeing  west  of  the  Mis 
sissippi.  He  was  imprisoned,  and  the  case  referred  to  the  Government 
for  decision.  He  had  broken  his  treaty  covenants.  He  had  not  only 
made  war,  but  in  its  outbreak  and  its  continuance,  had  been  guilty  of  coun- 
tenancing, at  least,  the  most  shocking  barbarities.  He  had,  indeed,  opened 
the  scene  by  cruelly  murdering  the  agent  of  the  Government,  the  repre- 
sentative of  the  President,  in  the  person  of  Mr.  St.  Vrain.     The  commu 


nity,  the 

There  coi 
allowed  I 
There  wa 
istcd  in 
Miontonii 
it,  indeed, 
it  rnctinjr 
white  ? 
answered 
officer  of  1 
wise  and 
indignatio 
chief 

In  closi 
Mr.  Stone 
hcnsive,  a 
adding  to 
field  in  its 
ment  of  tl 
present  le' 
\  of  jnuMji, 
1  personatei 
stoutly  ag 


INDIAN   RULERS. 


157 


nity,  the  western  States  particularly,  called  loudly  for  his  execution. 
There  could  bo  no  security,  it  was  said,  if  such  a  bloody  fellow  was  al- 
allowed  to  roam  at  large.  lie  had  forfeited  his  life  a  thousand  times. 
There  was,  indeed,  the  siirne  popular  feeling  against  him,  which  had  e.\- 
isted  in  New  England,  one  hundred  and  ninety  years  before,  against 
Miontonimo.  But  could  he  have  been  Ifgally  executed?  And  if  so,  was 
it,  indeed,  the  true  policy  ?  Was  it  noble — was  it  high-minded?  Was 
it  meting  out  exact  and  equal  justice  to  men  with  red  skins,  as  well  us 
white?  It  was  thought  that  all  these  questions  must  be  negatively 
answered  ;  and  the  bold  Sac  insurgent  was  sent  home,  accompanied  by  an 
officer  of  the  army,  to  secure  his  comfort  and  safety,  and  thus  to  see  that  a 
wise  and  merciful  decision  should  be  faithfully  carried  out,  and  popular 
indignation  bo  prevented  from  wreaking  itself,  in  the  assassination  of  the 
chief. 

In  closing  these  remarks,  it  may  appear  selfish  to  express  the  hope,  that 
Mr.  Stone,  to  whom  we  are  already  indebted  for  these  spirited,  compre- 
hensive, and  well  written  volumes,  should  still  further  employ  his  pen  in 
adding  to  the  sum  of  these  obligations.  But  he  has  so  well  studied  the 
field  in  its  historical  bearing,  so  far  at  least  as  relates  to  the  eastern  depart- 
ment of  the  Union,  that  we  know  of  no  one  to  whom  the  labour  would 
present  less  of  the  character  of  a  task.  Wc  are  in  want  of  a  good  account 
\  of  Phihji,  or  Mctacom,  the  energetic  sachem  of  the  Pokenokets,  who  im« 
!  personated  so  fully  the  wild  liidiiui  character,  and  views,  and  battled  so 
stoutly  against  the  occupancy  of  New  England  by  the  Saxon  race.  In 
showing  up  to  modern  times  such  a  man,  we  think  a  biography  would  de- 
rive, very  deep  interest,  and  it  would  certainly  be  a  new  experiment,  to 
take  up  the  aboriginal  views  and  opinions  of  the  invading  race,  and  thus 
write,  as  it  were,  from  within^  instead  of  without  the  circle  of  warlike  ac- 
tion. In  this  way,  their  combinations,  eflforts  and  power,  would  better  ap- 
pear, and  redound  more  to  the  credit  of  the  aboriginal  actors,  as  warriors 
and  he  jes.  As  it  is,  history  only  alludes  to  them  as  conspirators,  rebels, 
traitors,  or  culprits;  as  if  the  fact  of  their  opposing  the  egress  of  civilized 
nations,  who  were  in  all  respects  wiser  and  better,  were  sufficient  to  blot 
out  all  their  right  and  claim  to  the  soil  and  sovereignty  of  the  land  of  their 
forefathers,  and  they  were  in  fact  bound  to  stand  back,  and  give  it  up  nolens 
vokns. 

We  had  designed  to  subjoin  a  few  remarks  on  the  biographical  labors 
of  other  writers  in  this  department,  particularly  those  of  Thatcher  and 
Drake,  but  our  limits  are  already  exhausted,  and  we  must  abandon,  or  at 
least,  defer  it 


I  m 


THE   RABID   WOLF. 


A   VERITABLE   TRADITION   OF  THE   VALLEY   OF   THE   TAM'ASENTHA. 


ifl 


The  great  Pine  Plains,  beginning  not  far  south  of  the  junction  of  the 
Mohawk  with  the  North  River,  are  still  infested  by  wolves,  who  harbour 
in  its  deep  gorges,  from  which  they  sally  out  at  night,  on  the  sheep-folds 
of  the  fanners,  and  often  put  a  whole  neighbourhood  in  fear.  The  rail- 
road track  from  Albany  to  Schenectady,  pusses  over  a  part  of  these  plains, 
which  stretch  away  in  the  direction  of  the  blue  outlines  of  the  Hel- 
derberg  mountains.  It  is  many  miles  across  the  narrowest  part  of  them, 
and  they  reacli  down  to  the  very  outskirts  of  the  city  of  Albany,  where 
they  have  of  late  years,  and  since  Buel's  day,  begun  to  cultivate  them  by 
Bowing  clover,  planting  fruit  trees,  and  in  other  ways.  They  constitute 
the  table  land  of  the  county,  and  send  out  from  beneath  their  Jieavy  mass 
of  yellow  sand  and  broken  down  sand  stones,  mica  slates,  and  granites, 
many  springs  and  streams  of  the  purest  and  most  crystalline  waters,  which 
find  their  outlets  chiefly  into  the  valley  of  the  Tawasentha,  or,  as  the  river 
is  called  in  popular  language,  the  Norman's  Kill,  and  are  thus  contributed 
to  swell  the  noble  volume  of  the  Hudson.  These  springs  issue  at  the  pre- 
cise point  where  the  arenaceous  mass  rests  on  a  clay  or  impervious  basis. 
The  efTect,  in  ancient  years,  has  been  that  the  sand  is  carried  ofl^,  grain  by 
grain,  till  a  deep  ravine  or  gorge  is  formed.  The  sides  of  this  gorge 
being  composed  of  mixed  earth  and  some  mould,  and  free  from  the  aridity 
of  the  surface,  bear  a  dense  and  vigorous  growth  of  hard  wood  trees  and 
shrubbery,  and  are  often  found  to  be  encumbered  with  immense  trunks  of 
fallen  pines  and  other  forest  rubbish,  which  renders  it  very  difficult  to 
penetrate  them.  It  is  into  these  dark  gorges  that  the  wolves  retreat,  after 
scouring  the  plains  and  neighbouring  farms  for  prey  ;  and  here  they  have 
maintained  their  ancient  empire  from  time  immemorial.  Such,  at  least, 
was  the  state  of  things  between  the  settlers  and  the  wolves,  at  the  date  of 
this  story,  in  1807. 

Sometimes  the  whole  country  armed  and  turned  out  en  masse,to  ferret 
ihem  out  of  their  fastnesses  and  destroy  them  ;  and  truly  the  forces 
assembled  on  some  of  these  wolf-hunts  were  surprising,  and,  in  one 
respect,  that  is  to  say,  the  motley  and  uncouth  character  of  their  arms, 
they  would  have  put  both  Bonaparte  and  Wellington  to  flight.  There 
was  nothing,  from  a  pitchfork  to  a  heavy  blunderbuss,  which  they  did  not 
carry,  always  excepting  a  good  rifle,  which  I  never  remember  to  have 
seen  on  these  occasions.  Indeed,  these  formal  turn-outs  were  better  suited 
to  frighten  away,  than  to  kill  and  capture  the  foe ;  so  that  there  was  no 

158 


brought 


VILLAGE   TRADITION. 


169 


just  cause  of  surprise  why  the  wolves  remained,  and  even  increased. 
They  still  kept  masters  of  the  Plains — sheep  were  killed  by  dozens,  night 
after  night,  and  the  alarm  went  on. 

It  was  at  other  times  tried  to  trap  them,  and  to  bait  them  in  sundry  ways. 
I  recollect  that  we  all  had  implicit  faith  in  the  village  schoolmaster,  one 
Cleanthus,  who  knew  some  Latin,  and  a  little  of  almost  every  thing ;  and 
among  other  arts  which  he  cherished,  and  dealt  out  in  a  way  to  excite 
wonder  for  his  skill,  he  knew  how  to  make  the  wolves  follow  his  tracks, 
by  smearing  his  shoes  with  ffisofcjcditn,  or  some  other  substance,  and  then 
ensconcing  himself  at  night  in  a  log  pen,  where  he  might  bid  defiance  to 
the  best  of  them,  and  shoot  at  them  besides.  But  I  never  could  learn  that 
there  were  any  of  these  pestiferous  animals  killed,  either  by  the  school- 
master and  his  party,  or  any  other  party,  except  it  was  the  luckless  poor 
animal  I  am  about  to  write  of,  which  showed  its  affinities  to  the  canine 
race  by  turning  rabid,  and  rushing  at  night  into  the  midst  of  a  populous 
manufacturing  village. 

Iosco  was  eligibly  soated  on  the  summit  and  brow  of  a  picturesque 
series  of  low  crowned  hills,  just  on  the  southern  verge  of  these  great 
Plains,  where  the  tillable  and  settled  land  begins.  It  was,  consequently, 
in  relation  to  these  wolves,  a  perfect  frontier  ;  and  we  had  not  only  fre- 
quent alarms,  but  also  the  privilege  and  benefit  of  hearing  all  the  won- 
derful stories  of  wolf-adventure,  to  man  and  beast,  for  a  wide  circle.  In- 
deed, these  stories  often  came  back  with  interest,  from  the  German  and 
Dutch  along  the  Swarta  Kill,  and  Boza  Kill  settlements,  away  up  to  the  foot 
of  the  Helderberg  mountains.  A  beautiful  and  clear  stream  of  sparkling 
cold  water,  called  the  Hungerkill,  after  gathering  its  crystal  tributaries  from 
the  deep  gorges  of  the  plains,  ran  through  the  village,  and  afforded  one 
or  two  seats  for  mills,  and  after  windinsr  and  doubling  on  its  track  a  mile 
or  two,  rendered  its  pellucid  stores  into  the  Norman's  Kill,  or,  as  this 
stream  was  called  by  the  ancient  IMohawk  race,  in  allusion  to  their  sleep- 
ing dead,  the  Tawasentha.  No  stream  in  the  country  was  more  famous 
for  the  abundance  of  its  fine  brook  trout,  and  the  neighbouring  plains 
served  to  shelter  the  timid  hare,  and  the  fine  species  of  northern  partridge, 
which  is  there  always  called  a  pheasant. 

The  village  was  supported  by  its  manufacturing  interests,  and  was 
quite  populous.  It  had  a  number  of  long  streets,  some  of  which  reached 
across  the  stream,  and  over  a  spacious  mill  pond,  and  others  swept  at 
right  angles  along  the  course  of  the  great  Cherry  Valley  turnpike.  In 
its  streets  were  to  be  heard,  in  addition  to  the  Engli.sh,  nearly  all  the  dia- 
lects of  the  German  between  the  Rhine  and  the  Danube  ;  the  Low  Dutch 
as  spoken  by  the  common  coimtry  people  on  the  manor  of  Rensselaer- 
wyck,  itu'  Erse  and  Gaelic,  as  not  unfrequently  used  by  the  large  pro- 
portion of  its  Irish  and  Scotch,  and  what  seemed  quite  as  striking  to  one 
brought  up  in  seclusion  from  it,  the  genuine  Yankee,  as  discoursed  by 


iMIikili 


160 


VILLAGE   TRADITION. 


the  mcrenaing  class  of  factory  wood  choppers,  teamsters,  schoolmasten, 
men  out  at  the  elbows,  and  travelling  wits.  The  latter  were  indeed  but  a 
sorry  representation  of  New  England,  ns  wo  have  since  found  it.  No 
small  amount  of  superstitions  were  believed  and  recited  in  the  social  meet 
mgs  of  such  a  mixed  foreign  population.  Accounts  of  instances  of  the 
second  sight,  death-lights  on  the  meadows  and  in  the  churchyard,  the 
low  howling  of  premonitory  dogs  before  funerals,  and  other  legendary 
wares,  to  say  nothing  of  the  actual  and  veritable  number  of  downright 
'pooks,  seen  on  various  occasions,  on  the  lands  of  the  Veeders,  the  Van 
Valkcnburgs,  the  Truaxes,  and  the  Lagranges,  rendered  it  a  terror  to  all 
children  under  twelve  to  stir  out  of  doors  after  dark.  There  were  in  tho 
annals  of  Iosco,  several  events  in  the  historical  way  which  served  as  per- 
fect eras  to  its  inhabitants;  but  none,  it  is  believed,  of  so  striking  and 
general  importance  as  the  story  of  the  Mad  Wolf,  of  which  I  am  about 
to  write. 

There  had  been  found,  soon  after  the  close  of  the  revolutionary  war, 
in  a  dark  wood  very  near  the  road,  pieces  of  a  cloth  coat  and  metallic 
buttons,  and  other  tilings,  which  rendered  it  certain  that  a  man  had  been 
murdered  at  that  spot,  in  consequence  of  which  the  place  was  shunned, 
or  hurried  by,  as  if  a  spirit  of  evil  had  its  abode  there.  On  another  oc 
casion.  the  body  of  a  poor  old  man  of  the  name  of  Homel,  was  found 
drowned  deep  in  the  Norman's  Kill,  clasped  in  the  arms  of  his  wife,  both 
dead.  A  gentleman  of  standing,  who  ventured  alone,  rather  groggy, 
one  dark  night,  over  the  long  unrailed  bridge  that  crossed  'be  mill  pond, 
pitched  upon  some  sharp  pallisadoes  in  the  water,  and  camu  to  a  melan- 
choly end.  Hormaun,  an  Iroquois,  who  haunted  the  valley,  had  killed, 
it  was  said,  ninety-nine  men,  and  was  waiting  an  opportunity  to  fill  his 
count,  by  dispatching  his  hundredth  man.  This  was  a  greatly  dreaded 
event,  particularly  by  the  boys.  There  was  also  the  era,  when  a  Race 
Course  had  been  established  on  a  spot  called  the  "  Colonel's  Farm,"  and 
the  era  of  the  "  Deep  Snow."  There  were  many  other  events  celebrated 
in  Iosco,  such  as  the  De  Zeng  era,  the  Van  Rensselaer  era,  and  the  Van 
Kleeck  era,  which  helped  the  good  mothers  to  remember  the  period 
when  their  children  were  born  ;  but  none,  indeed,  of  so  notable  a  cha- 
racter to  youthful  minds  as  the  adventure  of  the  mad  wolf 

Wolf  stories  were  in  vogue,  in  fact,  in  the  evening  and  tea  party  circles 
of  Iosco  for  many  years  ;  and  if  one  would  take  every  thing  as  it  was 
given,  there  had  been  more  acts  of  braverj^,  conduct,  and  firm  decision  of 
character  and  foresight,  displayed  in  encountering  these  wild  vixens  of 
the  plains  and  valleys  by  night,  than  would,  if  united,  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  repel  the  inroads  of  Burgoyne,  St.  Leger,  or  Sir  John  Johnson, 
with  Brant,  and  all  his  hosts  of  torics  and  Indians,  during  the  American 
revolution. 

I  chanced  one  night  to  have  left  the  city  of  Albany,  in  company  with 


^ 


VILLAGE   TRADITION. 


161 


one  of  tlicse  heroic  spirits.  Wo  occupied  my  father's  chaise,  an  old 
fashioned  piece  of  gentility  now  out  of  voyue,  drnwn  l)y  a  prime  horse, 
one  which  he  always  rode  on  paraih'S.  It  was  late  before  we  got  out  of 
t\w  precincls  d'  the  city,  and  up  tiie  hill,  and  night  overtook  us  away  in 
the  pine  woods,  at  Hilly  McKown's,  a  noted  pnlilicdiouse  seated  half  way 
between  the  city  and  Iosco,  where  it  was  customary  in  those  days  to  halt ; 
for  besides  (hat  lu'  was  much  respected,  and  one  of  the  most  sensible  and 
inlluential  men  in  the  town,  it  was  not  thought  right,  whatever  the  traveller 
might  n  ipiiri',  that  a  /mrsr  should  be  diivi'U  eight  miles  without  diawing 
breath,  and  ha\  ing  a  pail  of  wat(T.  As  1  was  but  young,  and  le.^s  of  a 
charioteer  than  my  valiant  companion,  ho  held  the  whip  and  reins  thus 
far ;  but  after  the  wolf  stories  that  poured  in  upon  us  at  McKown's  that 
evening,  he  would  bold  them  no  longer.  Every  man,  he  tliought,  was 
responsible  to  himself  He  did  not  wish  to  be  wolf's  meat  that  night,  so 
he  hired  a  fleet  horse  from  our  ho.st,  and  a  whip  and  spurs,  and  set  off 
with  the  speed  of  a  .lehu,  leaving  me  to  make  my  way,  in  the  In.'avy 
chaise,  through  the  sandy  plains,  as  best  I  could. 

In  truth  we  bad  just  reached  the  most  sombre  ptirt  of  the  plain,  where 
the  trees  were  more  tliiclc,  the  sanil  deep  and  he;ivy,  and  not  a  house  but 
one,  within  the  lour  miles.  To  render  it  worse,  this  was  the  chief  locality 
of  wolf  insolence,  where  he  had  oven  ventured  to  attack  men.  It  was  on 
this  routi'  too,  that  the  schoolmaster  had  used  his  medical  arts,  which  made 
it  bettin-  known  through  the  country  as  the  supposed  centre  of  their  power. 
Nothing  harmed  me,  however ;  the  horse  was  fine,  and  I  reached  home 
not  only  uneaten,  but  unlhreatened  by  a  wolf's  jaw. 

But  I  must  conlino  myself  to  the  matter  in  hand.  A  large  and  fierce 
wolf  sallied  out  of  the  jiluins  one  dark  siimmer's  night,  and  rushed  into 
the  midst  of  tli(!  village,  snapping  to  the  right  and  left  as  he  went,  and 
bitmg  every  animal  that  came  in  his  way.  Cows,  swine,  pigs,  geese — 
every  species,  whether  on  four  legs,  or  two  legs,  shared  its  malice  alike. 
The  animal  seemed  to  have  a  perfect  ubiquity — it  was  every  where,  and 
seemi'd  to  have  spared  nothing.  It  is  not  recollected  that  there  was  a 
single  house,  or  barn-yard  in  the  villai;e.  where  something  had  not  been 
bitten.  If  he  bad  come  on  an  errand  of  retri1)Ution,  for  the  great  and 
threaliaiing  wolf-parlies  which  had  gone  out  against  his  race,  and  all  the 
occult  artsof  the  schoolmaster  in  trying  to  decoy  thein  at  Barrett's  hollow, 
ho  could  not  have  dcaU  out  his  venomous  snaps  more  indiscriminately. 

It  must  have  been  about  midnight,  or  soon  after,  that  the  fearful  visiter 
came.  Midnight,  in  a  country  village,  finds  almost  every  one  in  bed,  but 
such  was  the  uproar  among  the  animal  creation,  made  by  this  strange  in- 
terloper, that  oiif  of  bed  they  soon  come.  The  cattle  bellowed,  the  pigs 
squealed,  the  poultry  cackled — there  must  be  something  amiss.  Santa 
Clans  himself  must  be  playing  his  pranks.     '•  A  wolf!"  was  the  cry — "a 

wolf  is  committing  havoc."     "  It  is  mad  !"  came  next  on  the  voices  of  the 

11 


-«^' 


162 


VILLAGE    TRADITION. 


night.  "A  mnd  wolf  t — a  mad  wolf!"  Notliing  but  a  mad  wolf  could  vcn 
turo  alone  into  the  heart  of  the  village,  and  do  so  miicli  mischief.  Out 
ran  the  people  into  the  .ttreets,  men,  women  and  all.  Some  caught  up 
guns,  some  cliilis,  some  pitchforks.  If  tlie  tories  luid  Indians,  in  the  old 
French  war,  had  hroke  into  the  scttleintiit  with  fire  and  sword,  ihero 
could  not  have  been  a  greater  tumult,  and  nothing  hut  a  mad  wolf  would 
have  3tood  his  ground.  Where  is  he?  which  way  did  he  run?  who 
saw  him  ?  and  a  thousand  like  expressions  followed.  He  had  gone  south, 
and  south  the  mob  pushed  after  him.  He  was  away  over  on  the  street 
that  leads  up  from  the  middle  factory.  It  was  a  cloudy  night,  ortiie  moon 
only  came  out  fitfidly,  and  threw  li'jiit  eudugh  to  discern  olijects  dindy, 
as  the  clouds  rolli'd  bifore  it,  Iiulistiiict  murmurs  came  on  the  breeze, 
and  at  li-ngih  the  scream  of  a  woman.  The  cause  of  it  soon  followed. 
The  wolf  had  bitten  Mrs,  Sitz.  Now  Mrs.  Sitz  was  a  careful,  tall,  rigid- 
faced,  waki'fiil  !uiiis"wife.  from  the  diitchy  of  Ilisse  D'Armstadt,  who 
had  followed  the  foitimrs  of  her  ImsbanJ,  in  trying  his  mechanical  skill 
in  the  preciuris  of  Idsco  ;  but  while  her  husband  Frank  laid  fa: '.  asleep, 
under  the  influence  of  a  hard  day's  labour,  her  ears  were  open  to  the 
coming  alarm.  It  was  not  long  before  she  ln'ard  a  tumult  in  her  goose 
pen.  The  rabid  animal  had  boinuled  into  the  uiidst  of  tliem,  which 
created  as  great  an  outcry  as  if  Kome  had  a  second  time  been  invaded. 
Out  she  ran  to  their  relief,  not  knowing  the  character  of  the  disturber, 
but  naturally  thinking  it  was  some  thief  of  a  neighbour,  who  wished  to 
make  provision  for  a  coming  Christmas.  The  animal  gave  her  one  snap 
and  leapt  the  pen,  "INIein  hemel !"  screamed  she,  "  er  hat  mein  gebis- 
sen  !"'     Sure  enough  the  wolf  had  bit  her  in  the  thigh. 

The  party  in  chase  soon  came  up,  and  while  some  stopt  to  parley  and 
sympathize  with  her,  oihers  pushed  on  after  the  animal — the  spitzbug,  as 
she  spitefully  called  him.  By  this  time  the  wolf  had  made  a  circuit  of 
the  southern  part  of  the  village,  and  scampered  down  the  old  factory  road, 
by  the  mill  dam,  under  the  old  dark  bridge  at  the  saw  mill,  and  up  the 
hill  by  the  old  public  store;  ami  thu.--  turned  his  course  back  towards  the 
north,  into  the  thickest  part  of  the  village,  where  he  had  first  entered. 
lie  had  made  a  complete  circuit.  All  was  valour,  boasting,  and  hot  speed 
behind  him,  but  tiie  wolf  had  been  too  nimble  I'nr  them.  I'nluckiiy  for 
him,  however,  while  the  main  group  pushed  behind,  just  as  he  was  scam 
pering  up  the  old  store  hill,  ht;  was  suddenly  headed  by  a  party  cominq 
down  U.  This  party  was  led  by  old  Colonel  S,,  a  revolutionary  soldier 
a  field-ofFicer  of  the  coimty  militia,  and  the  superintendent  of  the  exten 
si  0  manufacturing  establishment  from  which  the  village  drew  its  pros 
perity.  He  was  armed  with  a  fusil  of  the  olden  time,  well  charged,  and 
having  been  roused  from  his  bed  in  a  hurry,  could  not  at  the  momnitfind 
his  hat,  and  clapt  on  an  old  revolutionary  cocked  hat,  which  hung  in  the 
room.     His  appearance  was  most  opportune  ;  he  halted  on  the  brow  of 


the  hill,  a 
fugitive,  I 
speed,  ho 
inal's  him 
down.  'I 
but  his  pi 
with  hatcl 

'J'hus  f 
put  down 
did  not  en 
and  otiier 
of  the  lini 
went  ralic 
a  perfect 
animals  w 
restivenesi 

13ut  wh 
WliLthcr 
Wild  Hui 
througli  t 
Btteuded  tl 
or  the  aud 
wolf,  I  ca 
fatlings, 
many  yea 
immediate 


I.N  01  AN 

tract  of  CO 
race  oi'  jie 
a  powcnu 
der  the  nn 
Pawnee  i 
provisions 
"  united 
own  live 
the  Little 
their  land, 
oi'Iiuliaiks 
the  annuit 


VILLAGE   TRADITION. 


163 


thft  hillj  and  as  tlie  wolf  bounded  on  he  levelled  his  piece  at  iho  passing 
fugitive,  and  fired,  lie  hud  aimed  at  the  shoulders;  the  fleclness  of  ita 
speed,  however,  saved  its  vital  parts,  liut  the  siiot  took  t  d'ecl  in  the  ani- 
mal's hind  legs.  They  were  both  broken  at  a  shot.  This  brought  liim 
down.  The  poor  creature  tried  to  drag  himself  on  by  his  fore  paws, 
but  his  pursuers  were  loo  close  upon  iiim,  and  they  soon  disiwtchcd  him 
with  hatchets  and  clubs. 

'J'hus  fell  the  rabid  wolf,  to  bo  long  talked  of  by  men  and  boys,  anrf 
put  down  as  a  chief  item  in  village  traditions.  Hut  the  effects  of  his  visit 
did  not  end  here.  In  due  time,  syuiplums  uf  uuuhiess  sti/cd  the  cattle 
and  other  animals,  which  had  come  within  the  reach  of  his  tettli.  Many 
of  the  linesi  milcii  cows  were  shot.  Calves  and  swine,  and  even  joultry 
went  rabid  ;  and  as  tilings  of  this  kind  are  generally  overdone,  there  was 
a  pcirfcct  panic  in  the  village  on  thr  sul'ject,  and  numbers  of  valuable 
animals  were  duublless  shot,  merely  because  they  lui])pened  to  show  some 
restiveness  at  a  very  critical  epoch. 

But  what,  nn'thiidis  the  render  is  ready  to  ask,  became  of  Mrs.  Sitz  ? 
Wliriher  it  wa,<.  that  slio  had  lirought  over  some  mystical  arts  from  the 
Wild  Ilunlsman  of  LJoiiemia,  or  iiad  derived  protection  fiom  the  venom 
through  the  carefully  administered  medicines  of  Dr.  Crouse,  who  duly 
attended  the  case,  or  some  inherent  influence  of  the  stout  iiearted  woman, 
or  llie  audacity  of  the  bite  itself,  had  prove.l  more  than  a  match  for  the 
wolf,  I  caiuiot  say  ;  but  ccaain  it  is,  that  while  o.xen  and  kino,  swine  and 
fatlings,  iell  imder  the  viru.s  and  were  shot,  she  recovered,  and  lived 
many  years  to  scold  her  dozing  husband  Frank,  who  did  not  jump  up 
immediately,  and  come  to  hei  rescue  at  the  goose  pen. 


I.NUiAN  Pi'ssi'.ssioNS. — The  Ouoes  own,  at  the  latest  accounts,  a  large 
tract  of  country  on  the  Big  Platte,  west  of  the  Missouri :  they  are  a  poor 
race  of  people,  and  receive  a  small  annuity  of  $2,500.  'i'he  Pawnees  are 
a  poweiiul  body,  and  number  about  6,500  persons,  dividi  1  into  bands  un- 
der the  names  of  Pawnee  Loups.  Grand  Pawnees,  Republican  Pawnees, 
Pawnee  Pics,  &.c.  ;  they  are  wild  and  turtive  in  their  habits,  and  receive 
provisions  and  goods.  The  Grand  Nation  is  the  PoltowaUouiies,  or  the 
"  united  Itaiids  of  the  Chippewas,  Ottavvas,  and  Pottowaltnmies."  They 
own  live  millions  of  acres  of  prairie  lands,  along  the  iMissouri  river  to 
the  Liule  Sion.x,  number  about  2,000,  and  receive  $12,000  a  year  for 
their  lands  sold  in  Illinois  and  INlichigan.  They  are  a  respectable  body 
of  Indiatvs,  are  good  farmers,  and  educate  their  children.  The  payment  of 
the  annuhies  is  always  a  season  of  great  hilarity  and  festivity, — iV.  O.  Pic. 


.-MBi!M3 


I(  is  ;i  (.■linrnctoriHiic  of  hooio  of  tlin  Indinii  legcniN,  tlint  tlioy  ponvey  «  murnl  wMch 
HciMiiH  cIcMirly  cmiiijjil  In  (Icnnti',  lliiit  ii  |mrl  of  tlnsi-  Irirciids  wcrri  iiivrllli'il  to  convey 
iiistriiulloa  Id  tlir  youii;;  IhIUm  wIio  IikIiii  In  lliiiii.  'I'lic  l.iiowu  uUm'iili'  III'  111!  IuinIi 
ljii'tli(i(lM  iiiiinii|r  till-  Iiiili'tlii,  iir  liiiii'^iiiir  ii|i  tlirir  I'liildl'i'li,  rnviiiirH  tliiN  IiI'm.  'I'Ih'  1'i,|. 
lowing;  tiili'  iidJn '^Hi'H  ithill'  phujdy  In  (rirln  ;  lo  wlioiii  jl  IimiIhn  tlic  <liiii[;i't'  of  wliiil  we 
<litii>iiiiiiiiiU<  cniiiirlry.  Il  would  mtui  Imiii  llii<i,  lliut  lii'imty,  mid  iIh  coiiiiiiintuiil,  a 
lKiM.sifiii  I'lir  (Iri'i^i,  iiiMoii;;  llii-  ri'd  d.iii;,'liliT.i  of  Ad;itii  luid  l'",vf,  Imm  llir  Kaiu.'  l('ii(li'ii"y 
to  rrruli'  |iiiili',  laid  rioiirisli  Hi'if-coiii't'it,  and  scH'-rslrcni,  iind  aNmiiiii)  ii  I  ij  run  in/  iinr  tlif 
/iiimiiii /leiirl,  \\Un-\i  wtdi\H  till  iih,  tli 'sn  i|UidiliiH  liavi'  iinioii({  their  whilr-Mkimn  d, 
ualMiri-liuiri'd,  and  Mac-eyrd  prn^.iiy  llie  worlil  over.  Tliin  lali^  Iiuh  a|i|ir,ircd  in  ilio 
"  (Jiiliiinlpiaii."  'I'lie  lertn  Moowis  in  one  ol'  llio  most  deroijative  and  ulU-UHivo  [iofr*d)le. 
It  in  di'rivetl  frum  the  Udjibvvu  Hiibutuntive,  iiiu,  tiitli,  or  excrenicnt. 

MOOWIS, 

Oft 

THE  MAN  MADE  UP  OF  RAGS  AND  DIRT- 

A   TRADITION.MIY    I.EdKNU   OK   TI'';    UDJIIIWA8. 

In  a  l:irc[C  villajTc,  thcrn  lived  a  noted  belle,  or  Ma  inon  da  go  jcwii,  who 
was  the  admiration  of  ;il!  the  yoiinir  hunters  and  warriors.  Shn  was 
particularly  admired  by  a  yoniinf  man,  who  from  his  1^001!  (iKurc,  and  ill'; 
care  ho  took  in  his  dress,  was  called  the  Heau-Man,  or  Mu  nioii  dii  iriii  in-e. 
This  young  man  had  a  friend  and  companion,  whom  he  made  a  eonlidanl 
of  his  afFairs.  "  Come,"  said  he,  one  day  in  a  sportive  mood,  "  let  us  po  a 
courting  to  her  who  is  so  handsome,  perhaps  she  may  fancy  one  of  us." 
But  she  would  listen  to  neither  of  them,  and  when  the  handsonio  youni,' 
man  rallied  from  the  coldness  of  her  oir,  and  made  an  ellbri  to  overconio 
her  indilierenop,  she  put  toi^ether  her  thumb  and  three  fingers,  and  rai.«in,t^ 
her  hand  gracefully  towards  him,  deliberately  opened  them  in  his  face, 
This  gesticiilatory  mode  of  rejection  is  one  of  the  highest  contempt,  and 
the  young  hunter  retired  confused  and  abashed.  His  sense  of  pride  was 
deeply  wounded,  and  he  was  the  more  piqued,  that  it  had  been  done  in 
the  presence  of  others,  and  the  aflair  was  soon  noised  about  the  village, 
and  became  the  talk  of  every  lodge  circle.  Be3id<>s,  he  was  a  very  sen 
sitive  man,  and  the  thing  so  preyed  upon  him,  that  ho  became  moody 
and  at  last  took  to  his  bed.  lie  was  ticitttrn,  often  lying  fiir  days  without 
uttering  a  word,  with  bis  eyes  fi.xed  on  vacancy,  and  talcing  little  or  no 
food.  From  this  state  no  eirjits  could  rouse  him  ;  he  felt  abashed  and  dis 
honoured,  even  in  the  presence  of  his  own  relatives,  and  no  persuasions 
could  induce  him  to  rise.  So  that  when  the  family  prepared  to  talcc 
down  the  lodge  to  remove,  he  still  kept  his  bed,  and  they  were  compelled 
to  lift  it  over  his  head,  and  leave  him  upon  his  skin  couch.  It  was  a  time 
of  general  removal  and  breaking  up  of  the  camp,  for  it  was  only  a  win- 
ter's hunting  camp,  and  as  the  season  of  the  hunt  was  now  over,  and 

164 


spring  b( 
of  their  s 
luft  alone 
roiisiii,   \ 
forest  Ih'I 
died  awa 
liess  reigi 
As  800 
ri  inott'sit  i 
iindi.'islod 
or  pei&oii 
Jiiiiiisli  rill 
'pi.lry,  1.1 
iiad  dune 
Fur  this  ]: 
tile    bits  ( 
oiiiaiiH'iiiii 
out   (d    til 
partially  I) 
gaudy  ami 
mined  to 
lieads,  and 
ili'ii  made 
nrro\v.s,  an 
sc.i  relied 
dried  iiiea 
tilled  the 
fishioned 
He  |)iit  a 
lun  ill i,r  (ill 
inobt  lavii 
or  the  Dii 
'•  F(.llo\ 
act."     lit 
ein'imipiiit; 
which  he 
coiiiiteiiaii 
young,  wi 
he  was  fu 
Jiiit  no 
da  go  kw; 
invited  gm 
rival.     Tb 
he  had  bet 
panying  h 


TRADITIONARY   LEGKNOS. 


165 


spring  bcjTiui  to  nppcnr,  tliry  all  moved  of?",  ns  l)y  one  impulse,  to  tlio  pl.icn 
of  llieir  snniiner  vilj:i(,'e,  mid  in  a  short  tiini-,  uU  weru  >,'onc,  and  he  wns 
loft  nione.  The  Inst  person  to  leave  him  wna  his  [jooii  coinjHuiion,  mid 
roiisiii,  who  has  Ijcch  uatitionid  as  also  one  of  th(!  admirers  of  tho 
forest  lu'lli;.  lint  even  //'.<  vtiwi:  \va3  diMreyardwl,  and  as  soon  as  iiis  .si.113 
(lird  away  on  tlio  cieakinjf  snow,  the  stillness  and  solitudo  of  iho  wilder- 
ness ri'i;;ni'd  aroinid. 

As  soon  as  all  were  ^''otx',  and  he  could  no  lani^'er,  hy  iistenin;,',  hear  tho 
rtniotest  sounds  of  tlie  dtpartiny  rani]),  llie  Biau-Man  aiose.  It  is  In  In; 
nnderstood  that  this  young  man  was  aided  by  a  iiowtrl'iil  yuardian  sniiit, 
or  [ii.Msoiial  Moiieto  ;  and  lie  resolved  to  inalvc  use  of  his  iitniot.:l  power  to 
liiinisii  nnd  iunnljle  the  jrirl.  l''or  she  was  noted  in  the  trihe  i()r  lur  co- 
ipit  hy,  and  had  treated  others,  who  were  every  way  her  e(inais,  as  she 
liad  done  iiini.  He  resolved  on  a  singular  stratagem,  hy  way  of  revenge. 
For  this  purpose,  he  walb'd  over  the  deserted  camp,  and  gathered  up  all 
ilie  Mis  of  soiled  cloth,  clippings  of  finery,  and  cast  oil"  clothing,  and 
oinaineiits  which  had  either  been  left  or  lost.  These  he  carefnily  picked 
out  (if  llie  snow,  into  which  some  of  tliein  had  been  troihbai  and 
partially  Iniried.  and  conveyed  llieni  to  one  place.  'l"he  molly  heap  of 
gaudy  and  soiled  stnlis,  he  restored  to  their  original  beiinty,  and  deter- 
mined to  make  them  into  a  coat  and  leggiiis,  which  he  trimmed  with 
beads,  and  linished  and  decorated  after  the  best  fashion  of  his  tribe.  lie 
then  madi!  a  pair  of  moccasins  and  garnished  them  with  beaiLs,  a  bow  and 
arrows,  and  a  frontlet  and  feathers  lor  the  head,  Having  done  this,  he 
searched  about  for  cast  out  bones  of  animals,  pieces  of  skins,  clippings  of 
dried  meat, and  even  dirt,  and  having  cemented  thcan  together  with  snow,  he 
filled  the  clothes  with  these  things,  and  pressed  the  mass  lirmly  in,  and 
fishioned  it  e.xternally  in  all  respects,  like  a  tall  and  well  framed  man. 
I  le  ])ut  a  bow  and  arrows  in  his  hands,  and  the  frontlet  on  bis  head.  And 
having  finished  it,  he  brouglit  it  to  life,  and  the  unago  stood  forth,  in  the 
most  fivonnd  lineaments  of  his  fellows.  Such  was  the  origin  of  Aluowis, 
or  the  Dirt  and  Rag  Man. 

"  Follow  me,"  said  the  Beau-Man,  "and  I  will  direct  yon,  bow  you  shall 
act,"  He  was  indeed,  a  very  sightly  person,  and  as  they  entered  the  new 
encampment,  the  many  colours  of  his  clothes,  the  profusion  of  ornaments 
which  ho  had  managed  to  give  him,  and  his  fine  manly  step,  and  animated 
countenance,  drew  all  eyes.  And  be  was  received  by  all,  both  old  and 
young,  with  marks  of  attention.  The  chief  invited  him  to  his  lodge,  and 
he  was  feasted  on  the  moose's  hump  and  the  finest  venison. 

liut  no  one  was  better  pleased  with  the  handsome  stranger  than  Ma  mon 
da  go  kwa.  She  fell  in  love  with  him  at  the  first  sight,  and  he  was  an 
invited  guest  at  the  lodge  of  her  mother,  the  very  first  evening  of  his  ar 
rival.  The  Beau-man  went  with  him,  for  it  was  under  his  patronage  that 
ho  bad  been  introduced,  and,  in  truth,  he  had  another  motive  for  accom- 
lim,  for  he  had  not  yet  wholly  subdued  his  feelings  of  admira 


Ml 


panyi 


I 


166 


TRADITIONARY   LEGENDS. 


tion  lor  the  object,  against  whom  he  had,  nevertheless,  exerted  all  his 
necromantic  power,  and  he  hold  himself  subject  to  anj'  favourable  turn, 
which  ne  secretly  hoped  tho  visit  migiit  talic,  in  relation  to  iiimsell'.  But 
no  such  turn  occurred.  Moowis  attracted  the  chief  attention,  and  every 
eye  and  heart  were  alert  to  entertain  him.  In  this  ellbrt  on  the  part  of 
his  entertainers,  they  had  uell  nigh  nnealud  his  true  character,  and  dis- 
POived  him  into  his  original  tiemonts  of  nigs,  and  snow,  and  diit ;  lor  he 
.vas  assigned  the  most  promine.n  place  before  tb"!  fire:  this  was  a  degree 
of  heat  wliich  he  could  by  no  means  endure.  To  ward  it  oti'  ho  put  a 
bov  between  himself  and  the  fire.  He  shifted  his  position  frequently,  and 
evaded,  by  dexterous  mancsuvrcs,  and  timely  remarks,  the  pressing  invi- 
tation of  his  host  to  sit  up,  and  enjoy  it.  He  so  managed  these  excuses,  as 
not  only  to  conceal  his  dread  of  immediate  dissolution,  but  to  secure  the 
further  approbation  of  the  fair  forest  girl,  who  could  not  but  admire  one 
who  1  id  so  brave  a  spirit  of  endurance  against  the  paralysing  eliects  of 
cold. 

The  visit  proved  that  the  rejected  lover  had  well  calculated  the  effects 
of  his  plan.  He  withdrew  rom  the  lodge,  nnd  Moowis  triumphed. 
Bvibre  he  went,  he  saw  liiin  cross  the  lodge  to  the  coveted  abitios,  or  bride- 
groom's scat.  Marriage  in  the  forest  race,  is  a  simple  ceremony,  and 
where  the  impediments  of  custom  are  small,  there  is  but  little  time  de 
manded  for  their  'xecution.  The  dart  which  Ma  mon  da  go  kwa  had  so 
often  delighted  in  sending  to  the  hearts  of  her  admirers,  she  was  at  length 
fated  herself  lo  receive.  She  had  married  an  image.  As  the  morning 
begun  to  break,  the  stranger  arose  and  adjusted  his  warrior's  plumes,  and 
took  his  forest  weapons  to  depart.  "  I  must  go,"  said  he,  "  for  I  have  an 
important  business  to  do,  and  there  are  many  hills  and  streams  between 
me  and  the  object  of  my  journey."  "  .(  will  go  with  you,"  she  replied. 
"  It  is  too  far,"  he  rejoined,  "  and  you  are  ill  able  to  encounter  the  perils 
of  the  way."  "  It  is  not  so  fir,  but  that  I  can  go,"  she  responded,  "  and 
there  are  no  dangers  which  I  will  not  fully  share  for  you." 

Moowis  returned  to  tho  lodge  of  his  master,  and  detailed  to  him  the 
events  we  have  described.  Pity,  for  a  moment,  seized  the  breast  of  the 
rejected  youth.  He  regretted  that  she  should  thus  have  cast  herself  away 
tjpon  an  image  and  a  shadow,  when  she  might  have  been  mistress  of  the 
best  lodge  in  the  band.  "  But  it  is  her  own  folly,"  he  said,  "  she  has 
turned  a  deaf  car  to  the  counsels  of  prudence,  and  she  must  submit  to  her 
fate." 

The  same  morning  the  Image-man  set  forth,  and  his  wife  followed  hun, 
according  to  custom,  at  a  distance.  The  way  was  rough  and  intricate, 
and  she  could  not  keep  up  with  his  rapid  pace  ;  but  she  struggled  hard, 
and  perseveringly  to  overtake  him.  Moowis  had  been  long  out  of  sight, 
when  the  sun  arose,  and  commenced  upon  his  snow-formed  body  the 
work  of  dissolution.  He  began  to  melt  away,  and  fall  to  pieces.  As 
she  followed  him  piece  after  piece  of  his  clothing  were  found  in  the  path. 


1 


TRADITIONARY   LEGENDS. 


167 


She  first  found  his  mittens,  then  his  moccasins,  then  his  Icggins,  then  his 
coat,  and  oilier  parts  of  his  garments.  As  tiie  iieat  unbound  them,  they 
had  all  returned  also  to  their  debased  and  filthy  condition.  The  way  ltd 
over  rocks,  through  winil  falls,  across  marshes.  It  whirlid  about  to  all 
points  of  tlie  compass,  and  had  no  certain  direction  or  object.  Rags, 
bones,  leather,  beads,  feathers,  and  soiled  ribbons,  were  found,  but  she 
never  caught  the  sight  of  iMoowis.  She  spent  the  day  in  wandering ;  and 
when  evening  came,  she  was  no  nearer  tlie  oliject  of  her  search  than  in 
the  morning,  but  the  snow  having  now  nicliix!,  she  had  completely  lost 
his  track,  and  wandered  about,  uncertain  whicli  way  to  go,  and  in  a  slate 
of  perfect  despair.  Finding  herself  lost,  she  begun,  with  bitter  cries,  to 
bewail  her  fate. 

"Moowis,  Moowis,"  she  cried.  "Nin  ge  won  e  win  ig,  ne  won  e  win  ig" 
— that  is — .Moowis,  Moowis,  you  have  led  me  astray — you  are  leading  me 
astray.     And  witii  this  cry  she  continued  to  wander  in  the  woods. 

Sometimes  the  village  girls  repeal  the  above  words,  varymg  the  expres- 
sions, till  they  constitute  an  irregular  kind  of  song,  which,  according  to 
the  versions  of  a  friendly  hand,  nmy  be  set  down  as  follows : — 

Moowis!  Moowis! 

Forest  rover, 

Where  art  thou  ? 

Ah  my  bravest,  gayest  lover, 
Guide  me  now. 

Moowis !  Moowis ! 

Ah  believe  me. 
List  my  moan, 

Do  not — do  not,  brave  heart,  leave  mo 
All  alone. 

Moowis !  Moowis ! 

Foot-prints  vanished, 
Whither  wend  I, 

Fated,  lost,  detested,  banished, 
Must  I  die. 

Moowis  !   Moowis  ! 

Whither  ^-oest, 
Eyp-bright  lover. 

Ah  ihnu  ravenous  bird  that  knowest, 
I  see  you  hover. 

CircJmg — circling, 

As  I  wander, 
But  to  spy 

Where  I  fall,  and  then  to  batten, 
On  my  breast. 


•MnAr^MMIMkii 


•MMiM 


THE  LONE  LIGHTNING. 


AN    ODJIBWA    TALE. 


A  LITTLE  orphan  boy  who  had  no  one  to  care  for  him,  was  once  living 
with  his  uncle,  who  treated  him  very  badly,  making  him  do  hard  things 
and  giving  him  very  little  to  cat ;  so  that  the  boy  pined  away,  he  never 


thi 


id  lijjht.     At 


grew  much,  and  became,  through  hard  usage,  ^ 
last  the  uncle  felt  ashamed  of  this  treatment,  and  determined  to  make 
amends  for  it,  by  fattening  him  up,  but  his  real  object  was,  to  kill  him 
Dy  over-feeding.  He  told  his  wife  to  give  the  boy  jjlenty  of  bear's  meat, 
and  let  him  have  the  fat,  wliich  is  thought  to  be  the  best  part.  They 
were  both  very  assiduous  in  cramming  him,  and  one  day  came  near 
choking  him  to  death,  by  forcing  the  Hit  down  his  th-roat.  The  boy 
escaped  and  fled  from  the  lodge.  He  knew  not  where  to  go,  but  wan- 
dered about.  When  night  came  on,  he  wfis  afraid  the  wild  beasts  would 
eat  him,  so  he  climbed  up  into  the  forks  of  a  high  pine  tree,  and  there 
ne  fell  asleep  in  the  branches,  and  had  an  nupoway,  or  ominous  dream. 

A  jxTson  appeared  to  him  from  the  upper  sky,  and  .said, "  ]\Iy  poor  little 
lad,  I  pity  you,  and  tlie  hud  usage  you  have  received  from  your  uncle 
has  led  me  to  visit  you  :  follow  nie,  and  stej)  in  my  tracks."  Immediately 
liis  .s!(MM)  left  him,  and  he  rose  up  and  follnwed  his  guid(>,  mounting  up 
higher  and  higher  into  the  air,  until  lie  reached  the  upper  sky.  Here 
twelve  arrows  were  put  into  his  hand.s,  and  he  was  tukl  that  there  were 
a  great  many  inanitoes  in  the  northern  sky,  against  whom  he  must  go  to 
wai-,  and  try  to  waylay  and  shoot  them.  Accoidiiigly  he  went  to  that 
part  of  the  sky,  and,  at  long  intervals,  shot  arrow  after  arrow,  until  he 
had  expended  eleven,  in  vain  attem[)t  to  kill  tin;  nianitoes.  At  the 
flight  of  each  arrow,  there  was  a  long  and  solitary  streak  of  lightning  in 
the  .sky — then  all  was  e!(  ar  again,  and  not  a  cloud  or  spot  coulJ  be  seen. 
Tiie  twelfth  arrow  lie  held  a  long  time  in  his  hands,  and  looked  around 
keenly  on  every  side  to  spy  the  nianitoes  he  was  aitcr.  13ul  these  niani- 
toes were  very  cunning,  and  could  change  their  form  in  a  moment.  All 
they  feared  was  the  boy's  arrows,  for  these  were  magic  arrows,  which 
had  been  given  to  him  by  a  good  spirit,  and  had  pow(!r  to  kill  them,  if 
aimed  aright.  At  length,  the  boy  drew  up  his  last  arrow,  settled  in  his 
aim,  and  let  fly,  as  he  thought,  into  the  very  heart  of  the  chief  of  the 
manitoes  ;  but  before  the  arrow  reached  him,  he  changed  himself 
into  a  rock.  Into  this  rock,  the  head  of  the  arrow  sank  deep  and  stuck 
fast. 

"  Now  your  gifts  are  all  expended,"  cried  the  enraged  manito,  "  and  I 

will  make  an  example  of  your  audacity  and  pride  of  heart,  for  lifting 

your  bow  against  nu;" — and  so  saying,  he  transformed  the  boy  into  the 

ISazhik-a-wii  wa  sun,  or  Lone  Lightning,  which  may  be  observed  in  the 

northern  sky,  to  this  day.       , 

•^  ^         \  168 


if 


SKETCHES  OF  THE  LIVES  OF 


NOTED  BED  MEN  AND  WOMEN 


WHO  HAVE  APPEARED  ON  THE  AVESTERN  COSTINEXT. 


CONFESSIONS   OF    CATHERINE  OGEE  WYAN  AKWUT   OKWA; 

OK    THi;    WOMAN    OF     TJIE    BLUK-ROBED    CLOUD, 
THE  PROPUKTESS  OF  CHEGOI.1IEG0N, 

[These  confessions  of  the  Western  Pythoness  were  maJe  after  slie  had  relin- 
i]uishei1  theprophoti.'  office,  discanted  all  the  ceremonies  of  the  Indian  Mc(Idwina.ni\ 
Jesukecwin,  and  united  herself  to  the  Methodist  Episcopal  church,  of  which,  up  to 
our  latest  dates,  she  remained  a  consistent  member.  They  are  narrated  in  her  own 
words.] 

When  I  was  a  girl  of  about  twelve  or  tliirteen  years  of  age,  my  mother 
told  lue  to  look  out  for  something  that  would  happen  to  ine.  Accordingly, 
one  morning  early,  hi  the  middle  of  winter,  I  found  an  unusual  sign,  and 
ran  oiF,  a.s  far  from  the  lodge  as  I  could,  and  remained  there  until  my 
mother  came  and  lound  me  out.  She  knew  what  was  the  matter,  anrl 
brought  me  nearer  to  the  family  lodge,  and  bade  me  help  her  in  makm  ■ 
ti  .small  lodge 'of  branches  of  the  spruce  tree.  She  told  me  to  remain 
llure,  and  keep  away  from  every  one,  and  as  a  diversion,  to  ke>;ji  nyself 
i'inj)loyed  in  ciiopping  wood,  and  that  she  would  bring  me  plenty  of  pr,.> 
|);ired  ba.ss  wood  bark  to  twist  into  twine.  She  told  me  she  would  cot^e 
to  see  ii\e,  in  two  days,  and  that  in  the  meantime  I  must  not  ev-"  tasto 
snow, 

1  did  as  directed  ;  at  the  end  of  two  days  she  came  to  see  me.  I 
lliought  she  would  surely  bring  me  sometliing  to  eat,  but  to  my  disap- 
jiointmenl  she  brought  nothing.  I  suffered  more  from  thirst,  than  hun- 
g.  r,  though  T  felt  my  stomach  gnawing.  My  mother  sat  quietly  down 
and  .s'lid  (after  ascertaining  that  I  had  not  tasted  anything,  as  she 
dircetiHl),  "  I\Iy  child,  you  are  the  youngest  of  your  sisters,  and  none  are 
now  left  me  of  all  my  sons  and  children,  but  you  /o«/"  (alluding  to  her 
two  ehk-r  sisters,  hersflf  and  a  little  son,  still  a  mere  lad).  "  Who," 
,s!ie  continued,  "  will  take  care  of  us  poor  wouvn  .•'  Now,  my  dau<Thter, 
listen  to  me,  an  1  try  to  oliey.  DIai  ki'U  yoiu-  fic:.'  nni  fast  reallij,  that 
the  Ma.'itcr  of  l.ilV  may  have  ])ity  on  you  iint!  me,  and  on  us  all.  Do 
not,  in  thi'  ii'.iht,  di'vi.it(^  from  my  counsels,  and  in   two  days  more,  I 


i»iltMMMM«iMUM 


mm^' 


170 


THE    PROPHETESS   OF    CHEGOIMEGON. 


will  come  to  you.  He  will  help  you,  if  you  are  (Jotermined  to  do  what 
is  right,  and  toll  me,  whether  you  are  favored  or  not,  by  the  true  Great 
Spirit ;  and  if  your  visions  are  not  good,  reject  them."  So  saying,  she 
departed. 

1  took  my  little  hatchet  and  cut  plenty  of  wood,  and  twisted  the  cord 
that  was  to  be  used  in  sewing  up  pule  way  oon  un,  or  mats,  for  the  use  of 
the  family.  Gradually,  I  began  to  feel  less  appetite,  but  my  thirst  con- 
tinued ;  still  I  was  feaiful  of  touching  the  snow  to  allay  it,  by  sucking  it, 
as  my  mother  hud  told  nic  that  if  I  did  so,  thougli  secretly,  the  Great 
Spirit  would  see  me,  and  tlie  lesser  spirits  also,  and  that  my  fasting 
would  be  of  no  use.  So  I  continued  to  fast  till  the  fourth  day,  when  my 
mother  came  with  a  little  tin  dish,  and  filling  it  with  snow,  she  came  to 
my  lodge,  and  was  well  pleased  to  find  that  I  liad  followed  her  injunc- 
tions. She  melted  the  snow,  and  told  me  to  drink  it.  I  did  so,  and 
felt  refreshed,  but  had  a  desire  for  more,  which  she  told  me  would 
not  do,  and  I  contented  myself  with  what  she  had  given  me.  She  again 
told  me  to  get  and  follow  a  good  vision — a  vision  that  might  not  only  do 
us  good,  but  also  benefit  mankind,  if  I  could.  She  then  left  me,  anu  for 
two  days  she  did  not  come  near  me,  nor  any  human  being,  and  I  was 
left  to  my  own  reflections.  The  night  of  the  sixth  day,  I  fancied  a  voice 
called  to  me,  and  said  :  "  Poor  child  !  I  pity  your  condition  ;  come,  you 
are  invited  this  way  ;"  and  I  thought  the  voice  proceeded  from  a  certain 
distance  from  my  lodge.  I  obeycnl  the  summons,  and  going  to  the  spot 
f-om  which  the  voice  came,  found  a  thin  shining  path,  like  a  silver  cord, 
which  I  followed.  It  led  straight  forward,  and,  it  seemed,  upward. 
No.  3.  After  going  a  short  distance  I  stood  still,  and  saw  on  my  right 
hand  the  new  moon,  with  a  Uame  rising  from  the  top  like  a  candle, 
which  threw  around  a  broad  light.  No.  4.  On  the  left  appeared  the 
sun,  near  the  point  of  its  setting.  No.  11.  I  went  on,  and  I  beheld  on 
my  right  the  face  of  Kan  ge  (jatj  be  qua,  or  the  everlasting  woman,  No. 
5,  who  told  me  her  name,  and  said  to  me,  "  I  give  you  my  name,  and 
you  may  give  it  to  another.  I  also  give  you  that  which  I  have,  life  ever- 
lasting. I  give  you  long  life  on  the  earth,  and  skill  in  saving  life  in 
others.     Go,  you  are  called  on  high." 

I  went  on,  and  saw  a  man  standing  with  a  large  circular  body,  and 
rays  from  his  head,  like  horns.  No.  6.  He  said,  "  Fear  not,  my  name  if 
Monedo  Wininees,  or  the  Little  man  Spirit.  I  give  this  name  to  your 
first  son.  It  is  my  life.  Go  to  the"  place  you  are  called  to  visit."  I  fol- 
lowed the  path  till  I  could  sec  that  it  led  up  to  an  opening  in  the  sky, 
when  I  heard  a  voice,  and  standing  still,  saw  the  figure  of  a  man  standing 
near  the  path,  whose  head  was  surroundi-d  with  a  brilliant  halo,  and  his 
Iveast  was  covered  with  squares.  No.  7.  Ha  said  to  me  :  "  Look  at 
me,  my  name  is  0  Shan  wan  e  (jeeghick,  or  the  Bright  Biiie  Sky.  I  am 
tlie  veil  that  covers  the  opening  into  the  sky.     Stand  and  listen  to  me. 


rose,  a 


CONFESSIONS    OP    TIIK 


171 


Do  not  be  afraiil.  I  am  going  to  endow  you  willi  gifls  of  lili-,  and  put 
you  ill  airay  tliut  ycm  may  witlistantl  and  undure."  Immediately  1  saw 
myscdf  encircled  with  bright  poii.ts  wliieb  resti.'d  against  me  like  needles, 
but  gave  mo  no  pain>  and  they  fell  at  my  feet.  No.  t).  This  was  repeat- 
ed several  times,  and  at  each  time  they  fell  to  the  ground.  lie  said, 
"  wait  and  do  not  fear,  till  I  have  said  and  done  all  1  am  about  to  do." 
I  then  felt  diiferent  instruments,  first  like  awls,  and  then  like  nails  stuck 
into  my  ilesh,  but  neither  did  they  give  me  pain,  but  like  the  noedles,  fell 
at  my  feet,  as  often  as  they  appeared.  He  then  said,  "  that  is  good," 
meaning  my  trial  by  these  points.  '•  You  will  see  length  of  days.  Ad- 
vance a  little  farther,"  said  he.  I  did  so,  and  stood  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  opening  "  You  have  arrived,"  said  ho, "  at  the  limityou  can- 
not pass.  1  give  you  my  name,  you  can  give  it  to  another.  Now,  re- 
turn !  Look  around  you.  There  is  a  conveyance  for  you.  No.  10.  Do  not 
be  afraid  to  get  on  its  back,  and  when  you  get  to  your  lodge,  you  must 
take  that  wliicli  sustains  the  human  body."  I  turned,  and  saw  a  kind  of 
fish  swinnning  in  the  air,  and  getting  upon  it  as  directed,  was  carried 
back  with  celerity,  my  hair  floating  behind  me  in  the  air.  And  as  soon 
as  I  got  back,  my  vision  ceased. 

In  the  morning,  being  the  sixth  day  of  my  fast,  my  mother  came  with 
a  little  bit  of  dried  trout.  But  such  was  my  sensitiveness  to  all  sounds, 
and  my  increased  power  of  scent,  produced  by  fasting,  that  before  she 
came  in  sight  I  heard  her,  while  a  great  way  off,  and  when  she  came  in,  I 
could  not  bi'ur  the  smell  of  the  fish  or  herself  either.  She  said,  "  I  have 
brought  something  for  you  to  eat,  only  a  mouthful,  to  prevent  your  dy- 
ing." She  prepared  to  cook  it,  but  I  said,  "  Motlur,  forbear,  I  do  not 
wish  to  eat  it — the  smell  is  oflensive  to  me."  She  accordingly  left  ofl' 
preparing  to  cook  the  fish ,  and  again  encouraged  me  to  persevere,  and  try  to 
becojne  a  comfort  to  ':.'    in  hi;r  old  age  and  bereaved  stat'-,  and  left  me. 

I  attempted  to  cut  wood,  as  usual,  but  in  the  effort  I  fell  back  on  the 
snow,  from  weariness,  and  lay  some  lime  ;  at  last  I  made  an  effort  and 
rose,  and  went  to  my  lodge  and  lay  down.  I  again  saw  the  vision,  and 
eaA  pprson  who  had  before  spoken  to  me,  and  heard  the  promises  of 
dilferfi-nt  kinds  made  to  me,  and  the  songs.  I  went  the  same  path  which 
I  had  pursued  before,  and  met  with  the  same  reception.  I  also  had 
anotiier  vision,  or  celestial  visit,  wliich  I  shall  presently  relate.  My 
mother  came  again  on  the  seventh  day,  and  brought  me  some  pounded 
corn  boiled  in  snow  water,  for  she  said  I  must  not  drink  water  from  lake 
or  river.  Afler  taking  it,  T  related  my  vision  to  her.  She  said  it  was 
gorj,  and  spoke  to  me  to  continue  my  fast  three  days  longer.  I  did  so  ; 
at  the  end  of  which  she  took  me  home,  and  made  a  feast  in  honor  of  my 
success,  and  invited  a  great  many  guests.  I  was  told  to  eat  sparingly, 
and  to  take  notb'ng  too  hearty  or  substantial ;  but  this  was  unnecessarj", 
for  my  abainence  had  mad(>  my  senses  so  acult-,  lUatall  animal  food  had 
a  gross  and  disagreeable  odor. 


■f 


,  .i/iMiMf '; 


m 


4 


172 


PROl'HETKSS    OF    CIIEGOIMEGON. 


After  the  seventh  tiny  of  my  fast  (slie  continued),  while  I  was 
lying  in  my  lodge,  I  saw  a  dark  round  obji-ct  descending  from  the  sky 
like  a  round  stone,  and  enter  my  lodge.  As  it  came  near,  I  saw  that 
it  hud  small  feet  and  hands,  like  a  human  hody.  Jt  spoke  to  me  and  said, 
"  1  give  you  the  gift  of  seeing  into  futurity,  that  you  may  use  it,  for  the 
benefit  of  yourself  aiid  the  Indians — your  relations  and  tribes-people." 
It  then  dej)arted,  but  as  it  went  away,  it  assumed  wings,  and  looked  to 
me  like  the  red-headed  woodpecker. 

In  consequence  of  being  thus  favored,  1  assumed  the  arts  of  a  medicine 
VNuiniUi  ;ui(l  a  prophetess;  but  never  those  of  a  Wabeno.  The  first 
time  i  exercised  the  prophetical  art,  was  at  the  strong  and  repeated  soli- 
ciial;  11.=!  of  my  friends.  It  was  in  the  winter  season,  and  they  wcit  tlicn 
eneiiii  ned  west  of  the  VV'isacoda,  or  Brule  river  of  Lake  Superior,  and 
bfln'  en  it  and  the  plains  west.  There  were,  besides  my  mother's 
lu.jly  and  relatives,  a  considerable  number  of  families.  The)'  had 
h'.'i  1  .^ome  time  at  the  place,  and  were  near  starving,  as  they  could  find 
no  giiiii,'  One  evening  the  chief  of  the  parly -ame  into  my  miuhci-'s 
lodirc.  I  bail  lain  down,  and  was  supposed  to  !h>  asleep,  ami  ho  request- 
ed of  my  mother  that  she  would  allow  nie  to  iry  my  skill  to  relieve  them. 
My  mother  spoke  to  me,  and  after  some  conversation,  she  gave  her  con- 
sent. I  told  'hem  to  build  the  Jce  siik  aim,  or  prophetV  lodge,  stroiit/, 
ond  gave  particular  directions  for  it.  I  directed  that  it  should  consist  of 
li'n  posts  or  sa])lip,gs,  each  of  a  diflerent  kind  of  wood,  which  I  named. 
When  it  was  ihiished,and  tightly  wound  with  skins,  the  entire  poj)ulation 
of  the  enciun])meiil  as.sembled  around  it  and  I  went  in,  taking  only  a 
small  drum.  I  immediately  knelt  down,  and  holding  my  head  near  the 
ground,  in  a  position  as  near  as  may  be  piostrate,  began  beating  my 
drum,  and  recitinj!;  m}  songs  or  incantations.  The  lodge  commenced 
shaking  violently,  lr>  supernatural  means.  1  knew  this,  by  the  com- 
jjressed  current  o,  .lir  above,  and  the  noise  of  motion.  This  being  regard- 
ed by  me,  and  by  all  without,  as  a  proof  of  the  presence  of  the  spirits  I 
consulted,  I  ceased  beating  and  singing,  and  lay  still,  waiting  for  questions, 
in  the  position  I  had  at  first  assum'' : 

The  first  question  put  to  me,  was  in  relation  to  thi.  game,  and  where 
it  was  to  be  found.  The  respwnse  was  given  by  li,!' orbicular  spirit, 
who  had  aj)peared  to  me.  Ht;  said,  "  How  short-sighted  you  are  ! 
If  you  will  go  in  a  tcesl  direction,  you  will  find  gaiue  in  abundance." 
:\cxt  day  the  (amp  was  broken  U[,v  nnd  they  all  moved  westward,  the 
hunters,  as  usual,  going  far  ahead.  They  had  not  proceeded  lar  beyond 
the  bounds  of  their  former  hunting  circle,  when  they  came  upon  tracks 
of  moose,  and  that  day,  they  killed  a  female  and  two  young  moose, 
nearly  full-grown.  They  pitched  their  encampment  anew,  and  had 
abundance  of  animal  food  in  this  new  jiositior. 

My  reputation  was    established  by  this  success,  and  I  was   after- 


i> 


awiikc 
on  till 
mornin 
had  bu 
fied. 
burial 


THE    PROrilETESS    OF    CIIEGOIMEOON. 


173 


wares  noted  in  the  tiiLe,  in  the  art  of  a  medicine  woman,  and  sung 
the  songs  whicli  I  have  given  to  you.  About  lour  years  afler,  I  was 
married  to  O  Mush  Kow  J'geezhicli,  or  the  Strong  Sky,  who  was  a 
very  active  and  successful  iuaiter,  and  iiept  iiis  lodge  well  supi)lied 
with  food ;  and  we  lived  happy.  Afler  [  hud  had  two  children,  a  girl 
and  a  boy,  we  went  out,  as  is  the  custom  of  the  Indians  in  the  spring,  to 
visit  the  white  settlements.  One  night,  while  we  W(  re  encamped  at  the 
hciul  of  the  portage  at  I'auwaling  (the  Falls  of  St.  .MaryV),  angry  words 
parsed  between  my  husband  and  a  half  Frenchman  named  Gaultier,  who, 
with  his  two  cousins,  in  the  course  of  the  dispute ,  drew  their  knives  and  a 
tomahawk,  and  stabbed  and  cut  him  in  four  or  five  places,  in  his  body,  head 
and  thighs.  This  happened  the  first  year  that  the  Americans  came  to 
that  place  (1822).  lie  had  gone  out  at  a  late  hour  in  ihe  evening,  to 
visit  the  tent  of  Gaultier.  Having  been  urged  by  one  of  the  trader's 
men  to  take  liquor  that  evening,  and  it  being  already  late,  I  desired  him 
not  to  go,  but  to  defer  his  visit  till  next  day  ;  and  after  he  liad  left  the 
lodge,  1  felt  a  sudden  presentiment  of  evil,  and  I  went  after  him,  and  re 
iiewed  my  elForts  in  vain.  He  told  me  to  return,  and  as  1  had  two  chil 
dren  in  the  lodge,  the  youngest  of  whom,  a  boy,  was  still  in  ids  cradle, 
and  then  ill,  I  sat  up  with  him  late,  and  waited  and  wailed,  till  a  late 
liuur,  and  then  fell  asleep  from  exhaustion.  I  slept  very  sound.  Tlie 
first  i  knew,  was  a  violent  shaking  from  a  girl,  a  niece  of  Gaultier's, 
who  told  me  my  husband  and  Gaultier  were  all  the  time;  quarrelling.  I 
arose,  and  went  up  the  stream  to  Gaultier's  camp  fire.  It  was  nearly 
out,  and  I  tried  in  vain  to  make  it  blaze.  I  looked  into  his  tent,  but  all 
was  dark  and  not  a  soul  there.  They  had  suddenly  fied,  although  I  did 
not  at  the  moment  know  the  cause.  1  tried  to  make  a  light  to  find  my 
luisband,  but  could  find  nothing  dry,  for  it  had  rainetl  very  hard  the  day 
before.  After  being  out  a  while  my  vision  became  clearer,  and  turning 
toward  the  river  side,  I  saw  a  dark  object  lying  near  the  shore,  on  a 
grassy  opening.  1  was  attracted  by  something  glistening,  which  turned 
out  to  be  his  ear-rings.  I  thought  he  was  asleep,  and  in  stooping  to 
awake  him,  1  slipped  and  fell  on  my  knees.  I  had  slipped  in  his  blood 
on  the  grass,  and  putting  my  liand  on  his  face,  found  him  dead.  In  the 
morning  the  Inilian  .igent  came  with  soldit.'rs  from  the  fort,  to  see  what 
had  happened,  but  the  murderer  and  all  his  bloody  gang  of  relatives  had 
fled.  The  agent  gave  orders  to  have  the  body  buried  in  the  old  Indian 
burial  ground,  below  the  Falls. 

INIy  aged  mother  was  encamped  about  a  mile  off,  at  this  time.  I  took 
my  two  children  in  the  morning,  and  lied  to  her  lodg;>.  She  had  just 
heard  of  the  murder,  and  was  crying  as  I  entered.  I  reminded  her  that 
it  was  an  act  of  providence,  to  which  we  must  submit.  She  said  it  was 
for  me  and  my  poor  helpless  children  that  she  was  crying-^that  I  was 
left  as  she  had  been,  years  before,  with  nobody  to  provide  for   us. 


'^ 


174 


RULING  ciiii:p  of  the  miamis. 


With  lior  I  returned  to  my  native  country  at  Chegoimegon  on  Lake 
Superior. 

Thus  far,  her  own  narrative.  Wo  hope,  in  a  future  number,  to  givo 
further  particulars  of  her  varied,  and  rather  eventful  Hfe  j  together  with 
specimens  of  her  m-idicine,  and  prophetic  songs. 


RULING  CHIEF  OF  THE  MIAMIS. 

Died,  on  the  13th  inst.  (August,  1841),  at  his  residence  on  the  St 
Mary's,  four  and  a  half  miles  south-west  of  this  city,  John  B.  llichardville, 
principal  chief  of  the  jNIianii  nation  of  Indians,  aged  about  eighty  years. 

Chief  RichardvilU',  or  "  Piskcwah^^  (which  is  an  Indian  name,  mean- 
ing in  English  "  wild-cat"),  was  born  on  the  point  across  the  Maumee 
river,  opposite  this  city,  under  or  near  a  large  apple  tree,  on  the  farm  of 
the  late  Colonel  Coles  ;  and  at  a  very  early  age,  by  succession,  became 
the  chief  of  the  tribe,  his  mother  being  chiel'tainess  at  the  time  of  his 
birth.  His  situation  soon  brought  him  in  contact  with  the  whites,  and  he 
was  in  several  engagements,  the  most  important  of  which  was  the  cele- 
brated .•slaughter  on  the  St.  Joseph  River,  one  mile  north  of  this  city, 
designated  as  "  Ilarmar's  Defeat,"  where  several  hundred  whites,  under 
General  Harmar,  were  cut  off  in  attempting  to  ford  the  river,  by  the  In- 
dians, who  lay  in  ambush  on  the  opposite  shore,  by  firing  upon  the 
whites  when  in  the  act  of  crossing  ;  which  slaughter  crimsoned  the  river 
a  number  of  days  fir  several  miles  below  with  the  blood  of  the  un- 
fortunate victims. 

The  Chief  is  universally  .<!poken  of  as  having  been  kind  and  humane  to 
prisoners — far  more  so  than  most  of  his  race  ;  and  as  soon  as  peace  was 
restored,  became  a  worthy  citizen,  and  enjoyed  the  confidence  of  th« 
whites  to  the  fullest  extent.  He  spoke  good  French  and  English,  a.i 
well  as  his  native  tongue  ;  and  foj  many  years  his  house,  which  is  pleas- 
antly situated  on  the  banks  of  the  St.  Mary's,  and  which  was  always 
open  for  the  reception  of  friends — was  a  place  of  resort  for  parties  of 
pleasure,  who  always  partook  of  the  hospitality  of  his  house. 

The  old  man  was  strictly  honest,  but  remarkably  watchful  of  his  in 
terest,  and  amassed  a  Ibrtune  exceeding  probably  a  million  of  dollars, 
consisting  of  nearly  '>200,000  in  specie  on  hand,  and  the  balance  in  the 
most  valuable  kind  of  real  estate,  which  he  has  distributed  by  "  will" 
among  his  numerous  relations  wilh  "  even-hamled  justice."  He  had 
always  expressed  a  great  anxiety  to  live,  but  when  he  became  conscious 
that  thf  time  of  his  departure  was  near  at  hand,  'le  resigned  himself  with 
pt>rfeot  composure,  saying  that  it  was  ordered  that  all  nmst  die,  and  he 
was  then  ready  and  willing  to  answer  the  call  of  the  "  Great  Spirit." 
His  remains  were  deposited  in  the  Catholic  Inirying-ground  with  reli- 
gious ceremonies. — Fort  Wayne  (Ind.)  Sentinel. 


JlS     OTTOWJ 

At  the 
in  Lake  Hi 
name  was 
fortune  of 
islands  by 
between  1 
lake  which 
tion,  Lac  C 
vnm  (le  gii 
mained  bel 
group  of  is 
vorite  resid 
sentinel  to 
Iroquois,  t 
He  had  wit 
the  shores, 
canoe  ever; 
upon  the  s 

One  day 
ing  the  bo; 
should  be  ( 
of  an  exte 
one,  he  dir 
of  it  ;  whi 
peared  sue 
He  wore  a 
accosted 
going  ?" 
smoke, 
strength  lit 
to  the  bun 
stronger." 
you  shoul 
tje  me  na 

As  soon 
ling  began 


»; 


THE  MAGICIAN  OF  LAKE  HURON. 


I  '^ 


AN     OTTOWA  TAIiE     BELATED    BY    NABUNWA    IN    THE    INDIAN    TONQUE,  TO    MB. 

GEOaSE  JOHNSTON. 

At  the  time  that  the  Ottowas  inhabited  the  Manatoline  Islands, 
in  Lake  Huron,  there  was  a  famous  magician  living  amongst  them  whose 
name  was  Masswaweinini,  or  the  Living  Statue.  It  happened,  by  the 
fortune  of  war,  that  the  Ottowa  tribe  were  driven  off  that  chain  of 
islands  by  the  Iroquois,  and  obliged  to  flee  away  to  the  country  lying 
between  Lake  Superior  and  the  Upper  Mississippi,  to  the  banks  of  a 
lake  which  is  still  called,  by  the  French,  and  in  memory  of  this  migra- 
tion, Lac  Conrtoriclle,  or  the  lake  of  the  Cut-ears,  a  term  which  is  their 
nom  de  guerre  for  this  tribe.  But  the  magician  Masswaweinini  re- 
mained behind  on  the  wide-stretching  and  picturesque  Manatoulins,  a 
group  of  islands  which  had  been  deemed,  from  the  earliest  times,  a  fa- 
vorite residence  of  the  manitoes  or  spirits.  His  object  was  to  act  as  a 
sentinel  to  his  countrymen,  and  keep  a  close  watch  on  their  enemies,  the 
Iroquois,  that  he  might  give  timely  information  of  their  movements. 
He  had  with  him  two  boys ;  with  their  aid  he  paddled  stealthily  around 
the  shores,  kept  himself  secreted  in  nooks  and  bays,  and  hauled  up  his 
canoe  every  night,  into  thick  woods,  and  carefully  obliterated  his  tracks 
upon  the  sand. 

One  day  he  rose  very  early,  and  started  on  a  hunting  excursion,  leav- 
ing the  boys  asleep,  and  limiting  himself  to  the  thick  woods,  lest  he 
should  be  discovered.  At  length  he  came  unexpectedly  to  the  borders 
of  an  extensive  open  plain.  After  gazing  around  him,  and  seeing  no 
one,  ho  directed  his  steps  across  it,  intending  to  strike  the  opposite  side 
of  it  ;  while  travelling,  he  discovered  a  man  of  small  stature,  who  ap- 
peared suddenly  on  the  plain  before  him,  and  advanced  to  meet  him. 
He  wore  a  red  feather  on  his  head,  and  coming  up  with  a  familiar  air, 
accosted  Masswaweinini  by  name,  and  said  gaily,  "  Where  are  you 
going  ?"  He  then  took  out  his  smoking  apparatus,  and  invited  him  to 
smoke.  "  Pray,"  said  he,  while  thus  engaged,  "  wherein  does  your 
strength  lie."  "  My  strength,"  answered  Masswaweinini,  "is  similar 
to  tho  human  race,  and  common  to  the  strength  given  to  them,  and  no 
stronger."  "  We  must  wrestle,"  said  the  man  of  the  red  feather.  "  If 
you  should  make  me  fall,  you  will  say  to  me,  I  have  thrown  you,  Wa 
ge  me  no." 

As  soon  as  they  had  finished  smoking  and  put  up  their  pipe,  the  wrest- 
ling began.     For  a  long  time  the  strife  was  doubtful.     The  strength  of 

175 


!^ 


\  i 


■  % 


h  f 


176 


TAI.KH    OK    A    WIOWAM. 


Masswiiwi'iniiii  wum every  laonicnt  f?iov\  iiij;  liiinter.  The  man  of  tlie  red 
li'iitlicr,  llKiiit;l»  Miial!  dl'  staturi',  luuvcd  liimsell"  Very  active,  l)ut  im 
Icn^lli  lie  was  iMili'd  and  tliiown  to  the  <;r(Mniil.  IrMincdiately  his  advi'- 
sury  iiii'd  out,  "  I  have  ihrown  yon:  ira  ijc  mr  iia  ;"  and  in  an  instant 
his  antat;<»nist  liad  vanished.  On  looUin;;lo  liic  spot  winic  he  had  fallen, 
he  discuvt'icd  a  crooked  ear  of  innniliiiiiiii.,  or  Indian  coin,  lyin;;  on  ll.' 
ground,  with  liie  usual  red  hairy  lassid  at  the  top.  While  he  was  <^;\. 
iiij;'  at  this  stranj;e  si<;ht,  and  wonderin;^  what  it  could  mh  an,  a  voic(!  ail- 
dressed  him  from  the  L^rouiul.  "  Now," .said  the  speakinj^  ear,  for  ''  .-, 
\iiici'  came  fro.u  it,  "  ilivcst  me  of  my  covering — !■  ave  nothiii'j;  to  hidt! 
my  hody  linn  yixu'  eyes.  Vou  nuist  then  se|)aiate  nn-  inti>  paits,  p'jl!- 
ing  oil"  my  body  from  the  spine  upon  which  1  j;row.  Throw  m.-  into 
dilK-rent  parts  uf  the  plain.  Tlien  break  my  spine  and  scatter  it  in  small 
jiicces  near  tlie  edge  of  the  wood.s,  and  return  to  visit  the  place,  after 
one  mnon.^^ 

Massvvaweinini  obeyed  these  directions,  and  immediately  set  out  on  his 
return  to  liis  lodge.  On  the  way  he  killed  a  deer,  and  on  reaching  hi.s 
canoe,  he  found  the  boys  still  isleep,  Ih'  awoke  them  and  told  tliem  to 
cook  his  venison,  hut  he  carefully  concealed  from  tlirm  his  adventure. 
At  tlu!  expiration  of  the  moon  he  again,  alone,  visited  liis  wrestling 
ground,  antl  to  his  surprise,  found  the  [)lain  filled  with  the  Hj)ikes  and 
bl. tiles  of  new  grown  corn.  In  the  place  where  he  had  thrown  tlu;  pieces 
of  cob,  !•  found  punipkii'  vines  growing  in  great  luxuriance.  lie  con- 
cealed this  ciiftcuv cry  uImj,  carefully  from  the  young  lads,  and  after  his 
return  busied  himselt  as  usual,  in  \\  alcdiing  the  movements  of  his  enemies 
along  the  coasts  of  the  ivlaiul.  This  lie  continued,  till  summer  drew 
near  its  close.  He  tiien  direct(>d  his  canoe  to  the  coast  of  that  part 
of  the  island  where  ho  iiad  wrestled  w  ith  the  Red  Plume,  drew  up  his 
canoe,  bid  the  lads  stay  by  it,  and  again  visited  his  wrestling  ground. 
He  found  the  corn  in  full  ear,  and  pumpkins  of  an  immense  size.  He 
jjlucked  ears  of  corn,  and  gathered  some  of  the  pumpkins,  wlien  a  voice 
again  addressed  him  from  the  cornfield.  "  Masswilweinini,  you  have 
concjuered  me.  Had  you  not  done  so,  your  existence;  would  have  been 
forfeited.  Victory  has  crowneil  your  strength,  and  from  liencefonh  you 
shall  never  be  in  want  of  my  body.  It  w  ill  be  nourishment  for  the  iui- 
aian  race."     Thus  his  ancestors  received  the  gift  of  corn. 

Masswaweinini  now  returned  to  his  canoe,  and  informed  the  young 
men  of  his  discovery,  and  showed  them  specimens.  They  vero  aston- 
ished and  delighted  with  the  novelty. 

There  were,  in  those  days,  many  wonderful  things  done  on  these 
blands.  One  night,  while  Masswaweinini  was  lying  down,  he  heard 
voices  speaking,  but  he  still  kept  his  head  covered,  as  if  he  had  not 
heard  them.  One  voice  said,  "  This  is  Masswaweinini,  and  we  munt  get 
his  heart."     "  In  w  hat  way  can  we  get  it .'"  said  another  voice.     "  You 


J 


TALKS    OF    A    WIUWAM. 


177 


must  put  yourhfind  in  his  mouth,"  roplitd  tin-  first  vdicc,  "and  draw  it 
out  that  way."  MasswUwi'inini  still  kept  quiet,  and  did  not  stir.  He 
soon  flit  thu  hand  of  a  person  thrust  in  his  mouth.  When  sufficiently 
for  in,  he  bit  off  the  fingers,  and  thus  escaptd  the  danger.  The  voices 
then  retired,  and  he  was  no  further  moh-sted.  On  examining  the  fingers 
in  the  morning,  what  was  his  surprise  to  find  them  long  wampum  beads, 
.lyhich  aw!  held  in  such  high  estimation  by  all  the  Indian  tribes.  He  had 
^hpt,  as  was  his  custom,  in  the  thick  woods.  On  going  oul  to  the  open 
shore,  at  a  very  early  hour,  he  saw  a  canoe  at  asmalldistani  'ompora- 
rily  drawn  up  on  the  beach  ;    on  coming  closer,  he  found  a  u  the 

bows  and  another  in  the  stern,  with  their  arms  and  hands  e:  icd  in  a 
fixed  position.  One  of  them  had  lost  its  fingers:  it  was  evutently  the 
man  who  hod  attempted  to  thrust  his  arm  down  his  throat.  They  were 
two  Pukwudjininers,  or  fairies.  But  on  looking  closer,  they  were  found 
to  be  transformed  into  statues  of  stone.  He  took  these  stone  images  on 
shore,  and  set  them  up  in  the  woods. 

Their  canoe  was  one  of  the  most  beautiful  structures  which  it  is  possi- 
ble to  imagine,  four  fathoms  in  length,  and  filled  with  bags  of  treasures 
of  every  description  and  of  the  most  exquisite  workmanship.  These 
bags  were  of  different  weight,  according  to  their  contents.  He  busied 
himself  in  <juickly  carrying  them  into  the  woods,  together  with  the  canoe, 
which  he  concealed  in  a  cave.  One  of  the  fairy  images  then  spoke  to 
him  and  said  :  "  In  this  manner,  the  Ottowa  canoes  will  hereafter  be 
loaded,  when  they  pass  along  this  coast,  although  your  nation  are  driven 
away  by  their  cruel  enemies  the  Iroquois."  The  day  now  began  to  dawn 
fully,  when  he  returned  to  his  two  young  companions,  who  were  still 
asleep.  He  awoke  them,  and  cxultingly  bid  them  cook,  for  he  had 
brought  abundance  of  meat  and  fish,  and  other  viands,  the  gifts  of  the 
fairies. 

After  this  displiiy  of  good  fortune,  he  bethought  him  of  his  aged  lather 
and  mother,  who  were  in  exile  at  the  Ottowa  lake.  To  wish,  and  to 
accomplish  his  wish,  were  but  the  work  of  an  instant  with  Mass- 
wiiweinini. 

One  night  as  he  lay  awake,  reflecting  on  their  condition,  far  away 
from  their  native  fields,  and  in  exile,  he  resolved  to  visit  them,  and 
bring  them  back  to  behold  and  to  participate  in  his  abundance.  To 
a  common  traveller,  it  would  be  a  journey  of  twenty  or  thirty  days, 
but  Masswaweinini  was  at  their  lodge  before  daylight.  He  found  them 
asleep,  and  took  them  up  softly  in  his  arms  and  flew  away  with  them 
through  the  air,  and  brought  them  to  his  camp  on  the  Manatolines,  or 
Spirit's  Islands.  When  they  awoke,  their  astonishment  was  at  its  high- 
est pitch ;  and  was  only  equalled  by  their  delight  in  finding  themselves 
in  their  son's  lodge,  in  their  native  country,  and  surrounded  with  abun- 
dance. 1 2 


^  \T  ^. 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


£f    US.    12.0 


1^ 


I. 


11-25  III  1.4 


1.6 


Photographic 

Sciences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STRIET 

WIBSTH.N.Y.  MSSO 

(716)872-4503 


■^ 


178 


TALES   OF   A   WIGWAM. 


Massw&weinini  went  and  built  them  a  lodge,  near  the  corn  and  wrest- 
ling plain.  He  then  plucked  some  ears  of  the  corn,  and  taking  some  of 
the  pumpkins,  brought  them  to  his  father  and  mother.  He  then  told 
them  how  he  had  obtained  the  precious  gift,  by  wrestling  with  a  spirit  in 
red  plumes,  and  that  there  was  a  great  abundance  of  it  in  his  fields.  He 
also  told  them  of  the  precious  canoe  of  the  fairies,  loaded  with  sacks  of 
the  most  costly  and  valuable  articles.  But  one  thing  seemed  necessary 
to  complete  the  happiness  of  his  father,  which  he  observed  by  seeing 
him  repeatedly  at  night  looking  into  his  smoking  pouch.  He  compre- 
hended his  meaning  in  a  moment.  "  It  is  tobacco,  my  father,  that  you 
want.  You  shall  also  have  this  comfort  in  two  days."  "  But  where," 
replied  the  old  man,  "  can  you  get  it — away  from  all  supplies,  and  sur« 
rounded  by  your  enemies  ?"  "  My  enemies,"  he  answered, "  shall  sup- 
ply it — I  will  go  over  to  the  Nadowas  of  the  Bear  totem,  living  at 
Penetanguishine." 

The  old  man  endeavored  to  dissuade  him  from  the  journey,  knowing 
their  blood-thirsty  character,  but  in  vain.  Masswaw  jiinini  determined 
immediately  to  go.  It  was  now  winter  weather,  the  lake  was  frozen 
over,  but  he  set  out  on  the  ice,  and  although  it  is  forty  leagues,  he  reach- 
ed Penetanguishine  the  same  evening.  The  Nadowas  discerned  him 
coming — they  were  amazed  at  the  swiftness  of  his  motions,  and  thinking 
him  somewhat  supernatural,  feared  him,  and  invited  him  to  rest  in  their 
lodges,  but  he  thanked  them,  saying  thai,  he  preferred  making  a  fire 
near  the  shore.  In  the  evening  they  visited  him,  and  were  anxious  to 
know  the  object  of  his  journey,  at  so  inclement  a  season.  He  said  it  was 
merely  to  get  some  tobacco  for  his  father.  They  immediately  made  a 
contribution  of  the  article  and  gave  it  to  him.  During  the  night  they 
however  laid  a  plot  to  kill  him.  Some  of  the  old  men  rushed  into  his 
lodge,  their  leader  crying  out  to  him,  '*  You  are  a  dead  man."  *'  No,  I 
am  not,"  said  Masswaweinini,  "  but  you  are,"  accompanying  his  words 
with  a  blow  of  his  tomahawk,  which  laid  the  Nadowa  dead  at  his  feet. 
Another  and  another  came,  to  supply  the  place  of  their  fallen  comrade,  but 
he  despatched  them  in  like  manner,  as  quickly  as  they  came,  until  he  had 
killed  six.  He  then  took  all  the  tobacco  from  their  smoking  pouches. 
By  this  time,  the  day  began  to  dawn,  when  he  set  out  for  his  father's 
lodge,  which  he  reached  with  incredible  speed,  and  before  twilight, 
spread  out  his  trophies  before  the  old  man. 

When  spring  returned,  his  cornfield  grew  up,  without  planting,  or 
any  care  on  his  part,  and  thus  the  maize  was  introduced  among  his 
people  and  their  descendants,  who  have  ever  been  noted,  and  are  at  this 
day,  for  their  fine  crops  of  this  grain,  and  their  industry  in  its  cultiva- 
tion. It  is  from  their  custom  of  trading  in  this  article,  that  this  tribe  are 
called  Ottowas. 


ut 
ad 
?s. 

rfa 


CORN-PLANTING,  AND  ITS  INCIDENTS. 

The  zea,  rnais,  originally  furnished  the  principal  article  of  subsistence 
among  all  the  tribes  of  this  race,  north  and  south.  Lt  laid  at  the  founda- 
tion of  the  Mexican  and  Peruvian  types  of  civilization,  as  well  as  the  in- 
cipient gleamings  of  it,  among  the  more  warlike  tribes  of  the  Iroquois, 
Natchez,  Lenapecs,  and  others,  of  northern  latitudes.  They  esteem  it  so 
important  and  divine  a  grain,  that  their  story-tellers  invented  various  tales, 
in  which  this  idea  is  symbolized  under  the  form  of  a  special  gift  from  the 
Great  Spirit.  The  Odjibwa-Algonquins,  who  call  it  Mon-da-min,  that  is, 
the  Spirit's  grain  or  berry,  have  a  pretty  story  of  this  kind,  in  which  the 
stalk  in  full  tassel,  is  represented  as  descending  from  the  sky,  under  the 
guise  of  a  handsome  youth,  in  answer  to  the  prayers  ot  a  young  man  at 
his  fast  of  virility,  or  coming  to  manhood. 

It  is  well  known  that  corn-planting,  and  corn-gathering,  at  least  among 
all  the  still  uncolonizcd  tribes,  are  left  entirely  to  the  females  and  children, 
and  a  few  superannuated  old  men  It  is  not  generally  known,  perhaps, 
that  this  labour  is  not  compulsory,  and  that  it  is  assumed  by  the  females 
as  a  just  equivalent,  in  their  view,  for  the  onerous  and  continuous  labour 
of  the  other  sex,  in  providing  meats,  and  skins  for  clothing,  by  the  chase, 
and  in  defending  their  villages  against  their  enemies,  and  keeping  intruders 
off  their  territories.  A  good  Indian  housewife  deems  this  a  part  of  her 
prerogative,  and  prides  herrelf  to  have  a  store  of  corn  to  exercise  her  hos- 
pitality, or  duly  honour  her  husband's  hospitality,  in  the  entertainment  of 
the  lodge  guests. 

The  areii  of  ground  planted  is  not.  comparitively,  large.  This  matter 
is  essentially  regulated  by  the  number  ot  the  family,  and  other  circum- 
stances. Spring  is  a  leisure  season  with  them,  and  by  its  genial  and  re- 
viving influence,  invites  to  labour.  An  Indian  female  has  no  cows 
to  milk,  no  flax  to  spin,  no  yarn  to  reel.  Even  thos«  labours,  which,  at 
Dther  seasons  fall  to  her  share,  are  now  intermitted.  She  has  apukwas  to 
gather  to  make  mats.  Sugar-making  has  ended.  She  has  no  skins  to 
dress,  for  the  hunt  has  ended,  the  animals  being  out  of  season.  It  is  at 
this  time  that  the  pelt  grows  bad,  the  hair  becomes  loose  and  falls  off,  and 
nature  itself  teaches  the  hunter,  that  the  species  must  have  repose,  and  be 
allowed  a  iistle  time  to  replenish.     Under  these  circumstances  the  mistresa 

179 


180 


CORN,  PLANTING,  AND  ITS  INCIDENTS. 


of  the  lodge  and  her  train,  sally  out  of  the  lodge  into  the  corn-field,  and 
with  the  light  pemidge-ag  akwut,  or  small  hoe,  open  up  the  soft  ground 
and  deposit  their  treasured  mondamin. 

The  Indian  is  emphatically  a  superstitious  being,  believing  in  all  sorts 
of  magical,  and  secret,  and  wonderful  influences.  Woman,  herself,  comes 
in  for  no  small  share  of  these  supposed  influences.  1  shrewdly  suspect 
that  one  half  of  the  credit  we  have  been  in  the  habit  of  giving  the  war* 
rior,  on  the  score  of  virtue,  in  his  treatment  of  captives,  is  due  alone  to  his 
superstitions.  He  is  afraid,  at  all  times,  to  spoil  his  luck,  cross  his  fate, 
and  do  some  untoward  act,  by  which  he  might,  perchance,  fall  under  a 
bad  spiritual  influence. 

To  the  wfiwun,  or  wife — the  equa,  or  woman,  to  the  guh  or  mother,— 
to  the  equazas,  or  girl,  and  to  the  danis,  or  daughter,  and  sheraa,  or 
sister,  he  looks,  as  wielding,  in  their  several  capacities,  whether  kindred 
or  not,  these  mystic  influences  over  his  luck.  In  consequence  of  this,  the 
female  never  walks  in  the  path  before  him.  It  is  an  unpropitious  sign.  If 
she  cross  his  track,  when  he  is  about  to  set  out  on  a  hunting,  or  war  ex- 
cursion, his  luck  is  gone.  If  she  is  ill,  from  natural  causes,  she  cannot 
even  stay  in  the  same  wigwam.  She  cannot  use  a  cup  or  a  bowl  without 
rendering  it,  in  his  view,  unclean. 

A  singular  proof  of  this  belief,  in  both  sexes,  of  the  mysterious  influence 
of  the  steps  of  a  woman  on  the  vegetable  and  insect  creation,  is  found  in  an 
ancient  custom,  which  was  related  to  me,  respecting  corn-planting.  It 
was  the  practice  of  the  hunter's  wife,  when  the  field  of  corn  had  been 
p'anted,  to  choose  the  flrst  dark  or  overclouded  evening,  to  perform  a 
secret  circuit,  sans  habilement,  around  the  field.  For  this  purpose  she 
slipt  out  of  the  lodge  in  the  evening,  unobserved,  to  some  obscure  nook, 
where  she  completely  disrobed.  Then  taking  her  matchecota,  or  princi- 
pal garment  in  one  hand,  she  dragged  it  around  the  field.  This  waf< 
thought  to  ensure  a  prolific  crop,  and  to  prevent  the  assaults  of  insects  and 
worms  upon  the  grain.  It  was  supposed  they  could  not  creep  over  the 
charmed  line. 

But  if  corn-planting  be  done  in  a  lively  and  satisfied,  and  not  a  slavish 
spirit,  corn-gathering  and  husking  is  a  season  of  decided  thankfulness  and 
merriment.  At  these  gatherings,  the  chiefs  and  old  men  are  more  specta- 
tors, although  they  are  pleased  spectators,  the  young  only  sharing  in  the 
sport.  Who  has  not  seen,  the  sedate  ogema  in  such  a  vicinage,  smoking 
a  dignified  pipe  with  senatorial  ease.  On  the  other  hand,  turning  to  the 
group  of  nature's  red  daughters  and  their  young  cohorts,  it  may  be  safe- 
ly affirmed  that  laughter  and  garrulity  constitute  no  part  of  the  character- 
istics of  civilization.  Whatever  else  custom  has  bound  fast,  in  the  do- 
mestic female  circle  of  forest  life,  the  tongue  is  left  loose.  Nor  does  it  re- 
quire, our  observation  leads  us  to  think,  one  tenth  part  of  the  wit  or 
drollery  of  ancient  Athens,  to  set  their  risible  faculties  in  motion. 


OP 

9 


If  one  of  the  young  female  buskers  finds  a  red  ear  of  corn,  it  is  typical 
of  a  brave  admirer,  and  is  regarded  as  a  fitting  present  to  some  young 
warrior.  Bi  t  if  the  ear  be  crooked,  and  tapering  to  a  point,  no  matter  what 
colour,  the  whole  circle  is  set  in  a  roar,  and  wa  ge  min  is  the  word  shouted 
alouJ.  It  is  the  symbol  of  a  thief  in  the  cornfield.  It  is  considered  as  the 
image  of  an  old  man  stooping  as  he  enters  the  lot.  Had  the  chisel 
of  Praicitiles  been  employed  to  produce  this  image,  it  could  not  more  vi- 
vidly bring  to  the  minds  of  the  merry  group,  the  idea  of  a  pilferer  of  their 
favourite  mondamin.  Nor  is  there  any  doubt  on  these  occasions,  that  tho 
occurrence  truly  reveals  the  fact  that  the  cornfield  has  actually  been  thus 
depredated  on. 

The  term  wagemin,  which  unfolds  all  these  ideas,  and  reveals,  as  by  a 
talisman,  all  this  information,  is  derived  in  part,  from  the  tri-literal  term 
Waweau,  that  which  is  bent  or  crooked.  The  termination  in  g,  is  the 
animate  plural,  and  denotes  not  only  that  there  is  more  than  one  object, 
but  that  the  subject  is  noble  or  invested  with  the  importance  of  animated 
beings.  The  last  member  of  the  compound,  min,  is  a  shortened  sound 
of  the  generic  meen,  a  grain,  or  berry.  To  make  these  coalesce,  agreea- 
bly to  the  native  laws  of  euphony,  the  short  vowel  i,  is  thrown  in,  between 
the  verbal  root  and  substantive,  as  a  connective.  The  literal  meaning  of 
the  term  is,  a  mass,  or  crooked  ear  of  grain  ;  but  the  ear  of  corn  so  called, 
is  a  conventional  type  of  a  little  old  man  pilfering  ears  of  corn  in  a  corn- 
field. It  is  in  this  manner,  that  a  single  word  or  term,  in  these  curious 
languages,  becomes  the  fruitful  parent  of  many  ideas.  And  we  can  thus 
perceive  why  it  is  that  the  word  wagemin  is  alone  competent  to  excite 
merriment  in  the  husking  circle.  ' 

This  term  is  taken  as  the  basis  of  the  cereal  chorus  or  corn  song,  da 
sung  by  the  northern  Algonquin  tribes.  It  is  coupled  with  the  phrase 
Paimosaid, — a  permutative  form  of  the  Indian  substantive  made  from  the 
verb,  pim-o-sa,  to  walk.  Its  literal  meaning  is,  he  who  walks,  or  the 
walker ;  but  the  ideas  conveyed  by  it,  are,  he  who  walks  at  night  to  pilfer 
corn.  It  offers,  therefore,  a  kind  of  parallelism  in  expression,  to  the  pre- 
ceding term.  The  chorus  is  entirely  composed  of  these  two  terms,  vari- 
ously repeated,  and  may  be  set  down  as  follows : 

Wagemin, 

Wagemin, 

Paimosaid. 

Wagemin, 

Wagemin, 

Paimosaid. 

181 


183 


CORN    PLANTING   AND   ITS    INCIDENTS. 


When  this  chant  has  been  sung,  there  is  a  pause,  during  which  some 
one  who  is  expert  in  these  things,  and  has  a  turn  for  the  comic  or  ironic, 
titters  a  short  speech,  in  the  manner  of  a  recitative,  in  which  n  peculiar  in- 
tonation is  given,  and  generally  interrogates  the  supposed  pilferer,  qs  if  lie 
were  present  to  answer  questions,  or  accusations.  There  can  be  no  ])re- 
tence,  that  this  recitative  part  of  the  song  is  always  the  sanip,  at  difTeicnt 
times  and  places,  or  even  that  the  same  person  should  not  vary  his  phrnsc- 
ology.  On  the  contrary,  it  is  often  an  object  to  vary  it.  It  is  a  perfect 
improvisation,  and  it  may  be  supposed  that  the  native  composer  is  always 
actuated  by  a  desire  to  please,  as  much  as  possible  by  novelty.  The 
whole  object  indeed  is,  to  keep  up  the  existing  merriment,  and  excite  fun 
and  laughter. 

The  following  may  be  taken  as  one  of  these  recitative  songs,  written  out, 
on  the  plan  of  preserving  the  train  of  thought,  and  some  of  those  peculiar 
interjections  in  which  these  languages  so  much  abound.  The  chorus 
alone,  it  is  to  be  observed,  is  fixed  in  its  words  and  metr<>,  however  trans- 
posed or  repeated,  and,  unlike  an  English  song,  precet*  "^  the  stanza  or 
narrative. 


CORN   SONO. 

Cereal  chorus.  Wagemin  I  wagemin  I 

Thief  in  the  blade, 
Blight  of  the  cornfield 
Paimosaid. 

Recitative.    See  you  not  traces,  while  pulling  the  leaf, 
Plainly  depicting  the  taker  and  thief? 
See  you  not  signs  by  the  ring  and  the  spot, 
How  the  man  crouched  as  he  crept  in  the  lot  • 
Is  it  not  plain  by  this  mark  on  the  stalk, 
That  he  was  heavily  bent  in  his  walk? 
Old  man  be  nimble  !  the  old  should  be  good, 
But  thou  art  a  cowardly  thief  of  the  wood. 

Cereal  Chorus.  Wagemin  I   wagemin  I 

Thief  in  the  blade. 
Blight  of  the  cornfield 
Paimosaid. 

Recitative.    W^here,  little  taker  of  things  not  your  own — 

Where  is  your  rattle,  your  drum,  and  your  bone? 
Surely  a  Walkkr  so  nimble  of  speed, 
Surely  he  must  be  a  Meta*  indeed. 

*  A  Juggler. 


— .--H^% 


CORN    PLANTING    AND   ITS    INCIDENTS. 

See  how  he  stoops,  as  he  breaks  ofTthe  ear, 
Nushka  I*  he  seems  for  a  moment  in  fear  ; 
Walker,  be  nimble — oh  !  walker  be  brief, 
Hooh  If  it  is  plain  the  old  man  is  the  thief. 


1S3 


Cereal  chorus. 


Wagemin  I  wagemin ! 
Thief  in  the  blade. 


Blight  of  the  cornfield 

Paimosaid.  ' 

Recitative.    Wabuma!|  corn-taker,  why  do  you  lag? 

"     None  but  the  stars  see  you — fill  up  your  bag  ? 
Why  do  you  linger  to  gazn  as  you  pull, 
Tell  me,  my  little  man,  is  it  most  full  t 
A-tia!^  sec,  a  red  spot  on  the  leaf, 
Surely  a  warrior  cannot  be  a  thief! 
Ah,  little  night-thief,  be  deer  your  pursuit, 
And  leave  here  no  print  of  your  dastardly  foot. 


TO  HEALTH. 


BY  THE  LATB  JOHN  JOHNSTON,  ESQ. 


Health'!  dearest  of  the  heavenly  powers, 
With  thee  to  pass  my  evening  hours, 

Ah  I  deign  to  hear  my  prayer ; 
For  what  can  wealth  or  beauty  give, 
If  still  in  anguish  doomed  to  live 

A  slave  to  pain  and  care. 

Not  sovereign  power,  nor  charms  of  love, 
Nor  social  joys  the  heart  can  move. 

If  thou  refuse  thy  aid  ; 
E'en  friendship,  sympathy  divine  ! 
Does,  in  thy  absence,  faintly  shine, 

Thou  all-inspiring  maid. 

Return  then,  to  my  longing  soul. 
Which  sighs  to  feel  thy  sweet  control 
Transfused  through  every  pore  ; 
My  muse,  enraptured,  then  shall  sing 
Thee — gift  of  heaven's  all  bounteous  king, 
And  gratefully  adore. 
February  4,  1807. 


*  A  sliarp  exclamation  quickly  to  behold  something  striking. 


t  A  derogatory  exclamation. 

(  A  masculine  exclamation,  to  express  surprise 


t  Behold  thoM 


184 


OOMEdTiO    AND    SOCUf. 


DOMESTIC   AND   SOCIAL   MANNERS   OF   THE   INDIANS, 
WHILE  ON  THEIR  WINTERING  GROUNDS. 

The  Indian,  who  takes  hia  position  as  an  orator,  in  front  of  his  people, 
and  before  a  mixed  assemblage  of  white  men,  is  to  be  regarded,  in  a 
measure,  as  an  actor,  who  has  assumed  a  part  to  perform.  He  regards 
himself  as  occupying  a  position  in  which  all  eyes  are  directed  upon  him, 
in  scrutiny,  and  he  fortifies  himself  for  the  occasion,  by  redoubled 
efforts  in  cautiousness  and  studied  stoicism.  Rigid  of  muscle,  and 
suspicious  of  mind  by  nature,  he  brings  to  his  aid  the  advantages  of 
practised  art,  to  bear  him  out  in  speaking  for  his  tribe,  and  to  quit  him 
manfully  of  his  task  by  uttering  sentiments  worthy  of  them  and  of  him- 
self. This  is  the  statue-like  and  artistic  phasis  of  the  man.  It  is  here 
that  he  is,  truly 

"  A  man  without  a  fear — a  stoic  of  the  wood." 

All  this  is  laid  aside,  so  far  as  it  is  assumed,  when  he  returns  from  the 
presence  of  the  "  pale-faces,'^  and  rejoins  his  friends  and  kindred,  in  his 
own  village,  far  away  from  all  public  gaze,  in  the  deep  recesses  of  the 
forest.  Let  us  follow  the  man  to  this  retreat,  and  see  what  are  his 
domestic  manners,  habits,  amusements,  and  opinions. 

I  have  myself  visited  an  Indian  camp,  in  the  far-off  area  of  the  North- 
tVEST,  in  the  dead  of  winter,  under,  circumstances  suited  to  allay  his  sus- 
picions, and  inspire  confidence,  and  have  been  struck  with  the  marked 
change  there  is  in  his  social  temper,  character,  and  feelings.  And  I  have 
received  the  same  testimony  from  Indian  traders,  who  have  spent  years 
among  them  in  these  secluded  positions,  and  been  received  by  them  as 
friends  and  kindred.  All  indeed,  who  have  had  frequent  and  full  oppor- 
tunities of  witnessing  the  red  man  on  his  hunting  grounds,  concur  in 
bearing  evidence  to  his  social,  hospitable,  and  friendly  habits  and  man- 
ners. Viewed  in  such  positions,  the  most  perfect  sincerity  and  cheer- 
fulness prevail ;  and  their  intercourse  is  marked  with  the  broadest  princi- 
ples of  charity  and  neighborly  feeling.  The  restraint  and  ever  watchful 
suspicion  which  they  evince  at  the  frontier  post,  or  in  other  situations 
exposed  to  the  scrutiny  and  cupidity  of  white  men,  is  thrown  aside  and 
gives  way  to  ease,  sociability  and  pleasantry.  They  feel  while  thus 
ensconced  in  the  shades  of  their  native  forests,  a  security  unknown  to 
their  breasts  in  any  other  situations.  The  strife  seems  to  be,  who  shall 
excel  in  offices  of  friendship  and  charity,  or  in  spreading  the  festive 
board.  If  one  is  more  fortunate  than  the  other,  in  taking  meat,  or 
wielding  the  arrow  or  spear,  the  spoil  is  set  apart  for  a  feast,  to  which 


MANNERS   OF   THE   INDIANS. 


186 


til  the  adults,  without  distinction,  are  invited.  When  the  set  time  of 
the  feast  arrives,  each  one,  according  to  ancient  custom,  takes  his  dish 
and  spoon,  and  proceeds  to  the  entertainer's  lodge.  The  victuak  are 
served  up  with  scrupulous  attention  that  each  receives  a  portion  of  the 
best  parts.  While  at  the  meal,  which  is  prolonged  by  cheerful  conver« 
sation,  anecdote,  and  little  narrations  of  personal  adventure,  the  females 
are  generally  listeners  ;  and  none,  except  the  aged,  ever  obtrude  a  re- 
mark. The  young  women  and  girls  show  that  they  partake  in  the  fes- 
tivity by  smiles,  and  are  scrupulous  to  evince  their  attention  to  the  elder 
part  of  the  company.  Conversation  is  chiefly  engrossed  by  the  old  men 
and  chiefs,  and  middle-aged  men.  Young  men,  who  arc  desirous  to 
acquire  a  standing,  seldom  oflTer  a  remark,  and  when  they  (fo,  it  is  with 
modesty.  The  topics  discussed  at  these  public  meals  relate  generally 
to  the  chaee,  to  the  news  they  have  heard,  or  to  personal  occurrences 
about  the  village  ;  ortotleeds,  "  real  or  fabulous,"  of  **old  lang  syne  ;" 
but  the  matters  are  discussed  in  a  lively,  and  not  in  a  grave  style. 
Business,  if  we  may  be  allowed  that  term  for  what  concerns  their  trade 
and  government  intercourse,  is  never  introduced  except  in  formal  coun- 
cils, convened  specially,  and  opened  formally  by  smoking  the  pipe.  It 
seems  to  be  the  drift  of  conversation,  in  these  sober  festivities  (for  it 
must  be  recollected  that  we  are  speaking  of  the  Indians  on  their  winter- 
ing grounds  and  beyond  the  reach,  certainly  beyond  the  free  or  ordinary 
use  of  ardent  spirits),  to  extract  from  their  hunts  and  adventures,  what- 
ever will  admit  of  a  pleasant  turn,  draw  forth  a  joke,  or  excite  a  laugh. 
Ridiculous  misadventures,  or  comical  situations,  are  sure  to  be  applauded 
in  the  recital.  Whatever  is  anti-social,  or  untoward,  is  passed  over,  or 
if  referred  to  by  another,  is  parried  off,  by  some  allusion  to  the  scene 
before  them. 

Religion  (we  use  this  term  for  what  concerns  the  great  spirit,  sacred 
dreams,  and  the  ceremonies  of  the  Meda  or  « ;f  dicine  dance),  like  busi- 
ness, is  reserved  for  its  proper  occasion.  It  di  its  not  form,  as  with  us, 
a  free  topic  of  remark,  at  least  among  those  who  are  professors  of  the 
dance.'  Thus  they  cheat  away  the  hours  in  pleasantry,  free,  but  not 
tumultuous  in  their  mirth,  but  as  ardently  bent  on  the  enjoyment  of 
the  present  moment,  as  if  the  sum  of  life  were  contained  in  these 
ihree  words,  "  eat,  drink,  and  be  merry."  When  the  feast  is  over,  the 
women  return  to  their  lodges,  and  leave  the  men  to  smoke.  On  their 
return,  they  commence  a  conversation  on  what  they  have  heard  the 
men  advance,  and  thus  amuse  themselves  till  their  husbands  return. 
The  end  of  all  is  generally  some  good  advice  to  the  children. 

The  company  in  these  ordinary  feasts  is  as  general,  with  respect  to 
the  rank,  age  or  standing  of  the  guests,  as  the  most  unlimited  equality 
of  rights  can  make  it.  Ail  the  aged  and  many  of  the  young  are  in- 
vited.    There  is,  however,  another  feast  instituted,  at  certain  times 


186 


DOMESTIC  AND  SOCIAL 


during;  the  season,  to  which  young  persons  only  are  it  viteil,  or  admitted, 
except  the  entertainer  and  his  wife,  and  generally  two  other  aged  per- 
sons, who  preside  over  the  feast  and  administer  its  rites.  The  object  o' 
this  feast  seems  to  be  instruction,  to  which  the  young  and  thoughtless 
are  induced  to  listen  for  the  anticipated  pleasure  of  the  feast.  Before 
this  feast  commences,  the  entertainer,  or  some  person  fluent  in  speech, 
whom  he  has  selected  for  the  purpose,  gets  up  and  addresses  the  youth 
of  both  sexes  on  the  subject  of  their  course  through  life.  He  admo- 
nishes them  to  be  attentive  and  respectful  to  the  aged  and  to  adhere  to 
their  counsels :  never  to  scoir  at  the  decrepid,  deformed,  or  blind  :  to 
obey  their  parents  :  to  be  modest  in  their  conduct :  to  be  charitable  and 
hospitable  :  to  fear  and  love  the  great  Spirit,  who  is  the  giver  of  life 
and  every  good  gift.  These  precepts  are  dwelt  upon  at  great  length, 
and  generally  enforced  by  examples  of  a  good  man  and  woman  and  a 
bad  man  and  woman,  and  after  drawing  the  latter,  it  is  ever  the  custom 
to  say,  *'  you  will  be  like  one  of  these."  At  the  end  of  every  sentence, 
the  listeners  make  a  general  cry  of  had.  When  the  advice  is  finished, 
an  address,  or  kind  of  prayer  to  the  great  Spirit  is  made,  in  which  he 
is  thanked  for  the  food  before  them,  and  for  the  continuance  of  life. 
The  speaker  then  says,  ''  Thus  the  great  Spirit  supplies  us  with  food  ; 
act  justly,  and  conduct  well,  and  you  will  ever  be  thus  bountifully  sup- 
plied."  The  feast  then  commences,  and  the  elders  relax  their  manner 
and  mix  with  the  rest,  but  are  still  careful  to  preserve  ord^,  and  a  de- 
cent, respectful  behavior  among  the  guests. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed,  however,  that  the  Indian's  life,  wliile  on  hit 
wintering  grounds,  is  a  round  of  feasting.  Quite  the  contrary  ;  and  his 
feasts  are  often  followed  by  long  and  painful  fasts,  and  the  severity  ot 
the  seasons,  and  scarcity  of  game  and  fish,  often  reduce  himself  and 
family  to  the  verge  of  starvation,  and  even  death.  When  the  failure  ol 
game,  or  any  other  causes,  induce  the  hunter  to  remove  to  a  new  circle 
of  country,  the  labor  of  the  removal  falls  upon  the  female  part  of  the 
family.  The  lodge,  utensils  and  fixtures  of  every  kind,  are  borne  upon 
the  women's  backs,  sustained  by  a  strap  of  leather  around  the  forehead. 
On  reaching  the  intended  place  of  encampment,  the  snow  is  cleared 
away,  cedar  branches  brought  and  spread  for  a  flooring,  the  lodge  set  up, 
the  moveables  stowed  away,  wood  collected,  and  a  fire  built,  and  then, 
and  not  until  then,  can  the  females  sit  down  and  warm  their  feet  and 
dry  their  moccasins.  If  there  be  any  provisions,  a  supper  is  cooked. 
If  there  be  none,  all  studiously  strive  to  conceal  the  exhibition  of  the 
least  concern  on  this  account,  and  seek  to  divert  their  thoughts  by  con- 
versation quite  foreign  to  the  subject.  The  little  children  are  the  only 
part  of  the  family  who  complain,  and  who  are  privileged  to  complain, 
but  even  they  are  taught  at  an  early  age  to  sufler  and  be  silent.  Gene- 
rally, something  is  reserved  by  the  mother,  when  food  becomes  scarce, 


MANNRRS   OF  TIIR    INDIANS. 


187 


to  aatisfy  their  clamors,  and  they  arc  satisfied  with  little.  On  such  occa- 
•lons,  if  the  family  have  gone  supperless  to  rest,  the  father  and  elder 
sons  rise  early  in  the  morning  in  search  of  something.  If  one  has  the 
luck  to  kill  even  a  partridge  or  a  squirrel,  it  is  immediately  carried  to 
the  lodge,  cooked,  and  divided  into  as  many  parts  as  there  are  members 
of  the  family.  On  these  occasions,  the  elder  ones  often  make  a  merit 
of  relinquishing  their  portions  to  the  women  and  children.  If  nothing 
rewards  the  search,  the  whole  day  is  spent  by  the  father  upon  his  snow- 
shoes,  with  his  gun  in  his  hands,  and  he  returns  at  night,  fatigued,  to  his 
couch  of  cedar  branches  and  rush  mats.  But  he  does  not  return  to  com- 
plain, either  of  his  want  of  success,  or  his  fatigue.  On  the  following 
day  the  same  routine  is  observed,  and  days  and  weeks  are  often  thus 
consumed  without  being  rewarded  with  anything  capable  of  sustaining 
life.  Instances  have  been  well  authenticated,  when  this  state  of  wretch- 
edness has  been  endured  by  the  head  of  a  family  until  he  has  become  so 
weak  as  to  fall  in  his  path,  and  freeze  to  death.  When  all  other  means 
of  sustaining  life  are  gone,  the  skins  he  has  collected  to  pay  his  credits, 
or  purchase  new  supplies  of  clothing  or  ammunition,  are  eaten.  They 
are  prepared  by  removing  the  pelt,  and  roasting  the  skin  until  it  acquires 
a  certain  degree  of  crispness.  Under  all  their  sufferings,  the  pipe  of 
the  hunter  is  his  chief  solace,  and  is  a  solace  often  resorted  to.  Smoking 
parties  are  frequently  formed,  "when  there  is  a  scarcity  of  food  not  tend- 
ing, as  might  be  supposed,  to  destroy  social  feeling  and  render  the 
temper  sour.  On  these  occasions  the  entertainer  sends  a  message  to 
this  effect :  "  Come  and  smoke  with  me.  I  have  no  food ;  but  we  can 
pass  away  the  evening  very  well  without  it."  All  acknowledge  their 
lives  to  be  in  the  hand  of  the  great  Spirit ;  feel  a  conviction  that  all 
comes  from  him,  and  that  although  he  allows  them  to  suffer,  he  will  again 
supply  them.  This  tends  to  quiet  their  apprehensions ;  they  are  fatal- 
ists, however,  under  long  reverses,  and  submit  patiently  and  silently  to 
what  they  believe  to  be  their  destiny.  When  hunger  and  misery  are 
past,  they  are  soon  forgotten,  and  their  minds  are  too  eagerly  intent  on 
the  enjoyment  of  the  present  good,  to  feel  any  depression  of  spirits  from 
the  recollection  of  the  past,  or  to  hoard  up  anything  to  provide  against 
want  for  the  future.  No  people  are  more  easy,  or  less  clamorous  under 
sufferings  of  the  deepest  dye,  and  none  more  happy,  or  more  prone  to 
evince  their  happiness,  when  prosperous  in  their  affairs- 
October  29tb,  1S26. 


PUGASAING; 


THE  GAME  OF  THE  BOWL. 


Tins  ia  the  principal  game  or  hazard  among  the  northern  tribes.  It  if 
played  with  thirteen  pieces,  hustled  in  u  vessel  called  oniigun,  which  is  a 
kind  of  wooden  bowl.     They  are  reprLSonted,  and  named,  us  follows. 


"?1. 


oooo 


v. 


•v: 


nr 


The  pieces  marked  No.  1,  in  this  cut,  of  which  there  are  two,  are  called 
(ninewug,  or  men.  They  are  made  tapering,  or  wedge-shaped  in  thick- 
ness, so  as  to  make  it  possible,  in  throwing  them,  that  they  may  stand  on 
their  base.  Number  2,  is  called  Gitshee  Kenabik,  or  the  Great  Serpent. 
It  consists  of  two  pieces,  one  of  which  is  fin-tailed,  or  a  water-serpent,  the 

188 


mmm 


PUOA8AINO. 


189 


;  II 
I  a 


1 


ed 
•k- 
on 
nt. 
he 


olhor  truncated,  and  is  probnbly  dcsi^rncd  as  terrestrinl.  They  arc  formed 
wedge-shiiped,  io  ns  lo  bo  cnpnble  of  standing  on  thoir  bnsrs  length-wise. 
Each  has  four  dota.  Number  3,  is  called  I'ugamiigun,  or  the  war  club. 
It  has  six  marks  on  the  handle,  on  the  rril  nulr,  and  four  radiating  from 
the  orifice  of  the  club  end  ;  and  four  marks  on  the  handle  of  the  whiti's'ule ; 
and  six  radiating  marks  from  the  orifice  on  the  cl.ib-end,  miking  ten  on 
each  side.  Number  \  is  callfd  Kecgo,  which  is  the  generic  name  for  a 
fish.  The  four  circular  pieces  of  brass,  slightly  concave,  with  a  flat  sur- 
face on  the  ape.x,  are  called  Ozaw&biks.  The  three  bird-shaped  pieces, 
Sheshebwug,  or  ducks. 

All  but  the  circular  pieces  are  made  out  of  a  fine  kind  of  bone.  One 
side  of  the  piece  is  white,  of  the  natural  colour  of  the  bones,  and  polished, 
the  other  red.  The  brass  pieces  have  the  convex  side  bright,  the  concave 
black.  They  are  all  shaken  together,  and  thrown  out  of  the  onagun,  aa 
dice.  The  term  pugasoing  denotes  this  act  of  throwing.  It  is  the  parti- 
cipial form  of  the  verb. — The  following  rules  govern  the  game : 

1.  When  the  pieces  arc  turned  on  the  red  side,  and  one  of  the  Inine- 
wuga  stands  upright  on  the  bright  side  of  one  of  the  brass  peces,  it 
counts  158. 

2.  When  all  the  pieces  turn  red  side  up,  and  the  Oitshee  Kenabik 
with  the  tail  atanda  on  the  bright  side  of  the  brass  piece,  it  counts  138. 

3.  When  all  turn  up  red,  it  counts  58  whether  the  brass  pieces  be  bright 
or  black  side  up. 

4.  When  the  Oitshee  Kenabik  and  his  associate,  and  the  two  Inincwugs 
turn  up  white  aide,  and  the  other  pieces  red,  it  counts  58,  irrespective  of 
the  concave  or  convex  position  of  the  brass  pieces. 

5.  When  all  the  pieces  turn  up  white,  it  counts  38,  whether  the  Ozawd- 
biks,  be  bright  or  black. 

6.  When  the  Oitshee  Kenabik  and  his  associate  turn  up  red,  and  the 
other  wnue,  it  counts  38,  the  brass  pieces  immaterial. 

7.  When  one  of  the  Ininewugs  stands  up,  it  counts  50,  without  regard 
to  the  position  of  all  the  rest 

8.  When  either  of  the  Oitshee  Kenabiks  stands  upright,  it  counts  40, 
irrespective  of  the  position  of  the  others. 

9.  When  all  the  pieces  turn  up  white,  excepting  one,  and  the  Ozawabiks 
dark,  it  counts  20. 

10.  When  all  turn  up  red,  except  one,  and  the  brass  pieces  bright,  it 
counts  15. 

11.  When  the  whole  of  the  pieces  turn  up  white,  but  one,  with  the 
Ozawdbiks  bright,  it  counts  10. 

12.  When  a  brass  piece  turns  up  dark,  the  two  Gitsheo  Kenabiks  and 
the  two  men  red,  and  the  remaining  pieces  white,  it  counts  8. 

13  When  the  brass  piece  turns  up  bright,  the  two  Oitshee  Kenabiks 
and  one  of  the  men  red,  and  all  the  rest  white,  it  is  6. 


190 


PUOASAINQ. 


14.  When  the  Gitsheo  Ivinabik  in  chief,  and  ono  of  the  men  turn  up 
red,  the  Ozuwabiks,  bright,  and  all  the  others  white,  it  is  4. 

15.  When  both  the  Kenabiks,  and  both  men,  and  the  three  ducks,  turn 
up  red,  the  brass  piece  black,  and  cither  the  Keego,  or  a  duck  white, 
it  is  5. 

IG.  When  all  the  pieces  turn  up  red,  but  one  of  the  Ininewugs,  and  the 
brass  piece  black,  it  counts  2. 

The  limit  of  the  game  is  stipulated.  The  parties  throw  up  for  the 
play. 

This  game  is  very  fascinating  to  some  portions  of  the  Indians.  They 
stake  at  it  their  ornaments,  weapons,  clothing,  canoes,  horses,  every  thing 
in  fact  they  possess  ;  and  have  been  known,  it  is  said,  to  set  up  their  wives 
and  children,  and  even  to  forfeit  their  own  liberty.  Of  such  desperate 
stakes,  I  have  seen  no  e.\amples,  nor  do  I  think  the  game  itself  in  com- 
mon use.  It  is  rather  confined  to  certain  persons,  who  hold  the  relative 
rank  of  gamblers  in  Indian  society — men  who  are  not  noted  as  hunters  or 
warriors,  or  steady  providers  for  their  families.  Among  these  are  per* 
sons  who  bear  the  term  of  Icnadizze  wug,  that  is,  wanderers  about  the 
country,  braggadocios,  or  fops.  It  can  hardly  be  classed  with  the  popular 
games  of  amusement,  by  which  skill  and  dexterity  are  acquired.  I  have 
generally  found  the  chiefs  and  graver  men  of  the  tribes,  who  encouraged 
the  young  men  to  play  ball,  and  are  sure  to  be  present  at  the  customary 
sports,  to  witness,  and  sanction,  and  applaud  them,  speaii  lightly  and  dis- 
paragingly of  this  game  of  hazard.  Yet,  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  some 
of  the  chiefs,  distinguished  in  war  and  the  chase,  at  the  west,  can  be  refer 
red  to,  as  lending  their  example  to  its  fascinating  power. 

An  analysis  of  this  game,  to  show  its  arithmetical  principles  and  powers 
might  be  gone  into ;  but  it  is  no  part  of  the  present  design  to  take  up  such 
considerations  here,  far  less  to  pursue  the  comparison  and  extension  of  cus- 
toms of  this  kind  among  the  modern  western  tribes.  It  may  be  sufficient 
to  say,  from  the  foregoing  rules,  that  there  seems  to  be  no  unit  in  the 
throw,  and  that  the  count  proceeds  by  decimals,  for  all  numbers  over  8. 
Doubtless  these  rules,  are  but  a  part  of  the  whole  series,  known  to  ex 
perienced  players.  They  comprise,  however,  all  that  have  been  revealeu 
to  me. 

"  Gambling  is  not  peculiar  to  our  race, 
The  Indian  gambles  with  as  fixed  a  face." 


Herodotus  says  of  the  ancient  Thrftcians — that  "  the  most  honourable 
life,  with  them,  is  a  life  of  war  and  plunder ;  the  most  contemptible  that  of 
a  husbandman.  Their  supreme  delight  is  war  and  plunder."  Who  might 
not  suppose,  were  the  name  withheld,  that  this  had  been  said  by  some 
modern  writer  of  the  Pawnees,  or  the  Camanches  1 


'•jjgrtfe" 


:l 


REVERENCE  AND  AFFECTION  FOR  PARENTS. 

There  lived  a  lioted  chief  at  Micliilimackinac,  in  days  past, called  Gitshe 
Naygow,  or  the  Great-Sand-Diine,  a  name,  or  rather  nick-name, 
which  he  had,  probably,  derived  from  his  birth  and  early  residence  at  a 
spot  of  very  imposing  appearance,  so  called,  on  the  southern  shore  of 
Lake  Superior,  which  is  east  of  the  range  of  the  Pictured  Rocks.  He 
was  a  Chippewa,  a  warrior  and  a  counsellor,  of  that  tribe,  and  hud 
mingled  freely  in  the  stirring  scenes  of  war  and  border  foray,  which 
marked  the  closing  years  of  French  domination  in  the  Canadas.  He 
lived  to  be  very  old,  and  became  so  feeble  at  last,  that  ho  could  not 
travel  by  land,  when  Spring  came  on  and  his  people  prepared  to  move 
their  lodges,  from  their  sugar-camp  in  the  forest,  to  the  open  lake  shore. 
They  were  then  inland,  on  the  waters  of  the  Manistee  river,  a  stream 
which  enters  the  northern  shores  of  Lake  Michigan.  It  was  his  Inst  win- 
ter on  earth ;  his  heart  was  gladdened  by  once  more  feeling  the  ge- 
nial rays  of  Spring,  and  he  desired  to  go  with  them,  to  behold,  for  the 
last  time,  the  expanded  lake  and  inhale  its  pure  breezes.  He  must 
needs  be  conveyed  by  hand.  This  act  of  piety  was  performed  by  his 
daughter,  then  a  young  woman.  She  carried  him  on  her  back  from 
their  camp  to  the  lake  shore,  where  they  erected  their  lodge  and 
passed  their  spring,  and  where  he  eventually  died  and  was  buried. 

This  relation  I  had  from  her  own  lips,  at  the  agency  of  Michili- 
mackinac,  in  1833.  I  asked  her  how  she  had  carried  him.  She  re- 
plied, with  the  Indian  apekun,  or  head-strap.  When  tired  she  rested,  and 
again  pursued  her  way,  on-wa-be-win  by  on-wa-be-win,  or  rest  by  rest,  in 
the  manner  practised  in  carrying  heavy  packages  over  the  portages.  Her 
name  was  Nadowukwa,  or  the  female  Iroquois.  She  was  then,  perhaps, 
about  fifty-five  years  of  age,  and  the  wife  of  a  chief  called  Saganosh, 
whose  home  and  jurisdiction  were  in  the  group  of  the  St.  Martin's  Islands, 
north  of  Michilimackinac. 

The  incident  was  not  voluntarily  told,  but  came  out,  incidentally,  k\ 
some  inquiries  I  was  making  respecting  historical  events,  in  the  vicinity. 
One  such  incident  goes  far  to  vindicate  the  affections  of  this  people, 
and  should  teach  us,  that  they  are  of  the  same  general  lineage  with 
ourselves,  and  only  require  letters  and  Christianity,  to  exalt  them  in  the 
scale  of  being. 


The  first  Uords  of  men,  says  Harris  in  his  Hermes,  like  their  first  ideas, 
had  an  immediiite  reference  to  sensible  objects;  in  after  days,  when  they 
began  to  discern  with  their  intellect,  they  took  those  words  which  they 
found  already  made,  and  transferred  .hem  by  metaphor,  to  intellectual  con' 
cent  ions. 

191 


T"w^'*iAn""  'f  >•■!•**•■  *■ " ■^ "■ 


ANDAIG  WEOS,  OR  CROWS-FLESH. 


Manv  persons  among  the  Indian  race,  have  attracted  notice  from  their 
exploits  on  the  war-path.  Andaig  Weos  was  not  among  the  num- 
ber of  these,  or  if  he  had  mingled  in  such  events,  his  deeds  of  daring 
are  now  lost  amid  the  remembrance  of  better  qualities.  He  was  a  chief 
of  the  once  prominent  and  reigning  band  of  OJjibwa  Algonquins,  who 
are  called  Chippewas,  located  at  Chegoimgon,  on  Lake  Superior,  where 
his  name  is  cherished  in  local  tradition,  for  the  noble  and  disinterested 
deeds  which  he  performed  in  former  days.  He  lived  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  18th  century. 

It  was  perhaps  forty  years  ago — said  ray  informant,  it  was  while  the 
late  Mr.  Nolin,  of  Sault  Ste.  Maries  was  a  trader  in  the  Chippewa  country, 
between  lake  Superior  and  the  Mississippi,  that  he  wintered  one  year  low 
down  on  the  Chippewa  river.  On  his  way  down  this  stream,  and  while 
he  was  still  on  one  of  its  sources,  cold  weather  set  in  suddenly,  the  ice 
formed,  and  he  was  unable  to  get  on  with  his  goods.  He  consequently 
put  them  en  cache,  according  to  the  custom  of  the  country,  and  proceeded 
on  foot,  with  his  men  to  the  lower  part  of  the  river,  to  the  spot  at  which 
he  had  deterraineii  to  winter.  Here  he  felled  trees,  and  built  his  house, 
and  having  made  all  things  ready,  he  set  out  with  his  men  on  his  return 
to  his  cache,  in  order  to  bring  down  his  goods. 

On  the  way  he  fell  in  with  an  Indian  h«nter  and  his  wife,  who  followed 
him  to  the  place  where  he  had  secreted  his  goods.  On  reaching  this,  he 
filled  a  bottle  with  spirits  and  gave  a  glass  to  each  of  his  men,  took  one 
himself,  and  then  '^lling  the  glass  presented  it  to  the  Indian.  This  was 
done  after  the  camp  had  been  made  for  the  night.  It  so  happened  that 
the  Indian  was  taken  suddenly  ill  that  night,  and  before  day  light  died. 
Nolin  and  his  men  buried  him,  and  then  proceeded  back  to  his  winterinc^ 
house  below,  each  man  carrying  a  pack  of  goods ;  and  the  widow  rejoined 
her  friends. 

After  the  Indians  had  taken  their  credits,  and  dispersed  to  their  sovpin! 
wintering  grounds,  it  was  rumoured  amongst  them,  that  the  trader  had 

192 


ANOAIG   WEOS,    OR   CROWS-FLESH. 


193 


d 

ch 

ise, 

rn 

red 
he 
>ne 
,'as 
lat 
pf'. 

led 


administered  poison  to  the  Indian  who  iied  so  suddenly  after  takings  the 
glass  of  spirits.  And  this  opinion  gained  ground,  ahhough  the  widow  wo- 
man repeated)}'  told  the  Indians,  that  the  liquor  given  to  her  deceased 
husband  was  from  the  same  bottle  and  glass,  that  all  the  French  people 
had  drank  from.  But  it  was  of  no  avail ;  the  rumour  grew,  and  Mr. 
Nolin  began  to  be  apprehensive,  as  he  had  already  learnt  that  the  Indians 
meant  to  kill  him.  To  confirm  this  suspicion  a  party  of  forty  men,  soon 
after,  entered  his  house,  all  armed,  painted  black,  and  with  war  dresses 
on.  They  were  all  presented  with  a  piece  of  tobacco,  as  was  customary, 
when  each  of  them  threw  it  into  the  fire.  No  ahernative  now  appeared 
to  remain  to  avert  the  blow,  which  he  was  convinced  must  soon  follow. 
Almost  at  the  same  instant,  his  men  intimated  that  another  party,  of  six 
men  more,  were  arriving. 

It  proved  to  be  the  chief  Andaig  Weos,  from  near  Lac  du  Flambeau, 
n  search  of  a  trader,  for  a  supply  of  tobacco  and  ammunition.  On  entering, 
the  chief  eyed  the  warriors,  and  asked  Mr.  N.  whether  he  had  given  them 
tobacco.  He  replied  that  he  had^  and  that  they  had  all,  to  a  man,  thrown 
it  in  the  fire,  and,  he  added,  that  they  intended  to  kill  him.  The  chief 
asked  for  some  tobacco,  which  he  threw  down  before  the  warriors,  telling 
them  to  smoke  it,  adding  in  an  authoritive  voice,  that  when  Indians  visited 
traders,  it  was  with  an  intention  of  getting  tobacco  from  them  to  smoke  and 
and  not  to  thrmc  into  ihefirf. ;  and  that,  for  his  part,  he  had  been  a  long 
time  without  smoking,  and  was  very  happy  to  find  a  trader  to  supply  him 
with  that  article.  This  present  fioni  him,  with  the  rebuke,  was  received 
with  silent  acquiescence, — no  onj  venturing  a  reply. 

The  chief  ne.\t  demanded  liquor  of  the  trader,  saying,  "  that  he  in- 
tended to  make  them  drink."  The  politic  Frenchman  remonstrated, 
saying,  "that  if  this  was  done,  he  should  surely  he  killed."  "Fear  not. 
Frenchman,"  replied  the  chief,  boldly.  "  These  are  not  mm  who  want 
to  kill  you:  they  are  children.  I,  and  my  warriors  will  guard  you."  On 
those  ii^surances,  a  keg  of  liquor  was  given,  but  with  the  greatest  reluc- 
tance. The  chief  immediately  presented  it  to  the  war-party,  but  cautioned 
them  to  drink  it  at  a  distance,  and  not  to  come  nigh  the  trader  during  the 
night.  They  obeyed  him.  They  took  it  a  short  distance  and  drank  it, 
and  kept  up  a  dreadful  yelling- all  night,  but  did  not  molest  the  house. 

The  nc.\t  morning  Andaig  Weos  demanded  tobacco  of  the  still  uneasy 
marchanl  voi/agmr,  and  ordered  one  of  his  young  men  to  distribute  it  to 
the  Indians  in  the  war-dress.  He  then  rose  and  addressed  them  in  an 
energetic  and  authoritative  speech,  telling  them  to  march  off,  without  tasting 
food;  that  they  were  warriors^  and  needed  not  any  thing  of  the  kind ; 
and  if  they  did,  they  were  hunters^ — they  had  guns,  and  might  hunt,  and 
kill  and  eat.  "  You  get  nothing  more  here,"  he  added.  "  This  trader 
has  come  here  to  supply  your  wants,  and  you  seek  to  kill  him — a  poor  re- 
ward for  the  trouble  and  the  anxiety  he  has  undergone !     This  is  no  way 

13 


'^^'jv^'^^^^w^nr*^^'^'^'^  i^^^ 


194 


ANDAia    WEOS,   OR   CROWS-FLESH. 


of  requiting  white  people."  They  all,  to  a  man  started,  and  went  off,  and 
gave  the  trader  no  farther  molestation  while  he  remained  in  the  country. 

On  another  occasion  Andaig  Wcos  was  placed  in  a  situation  which 
afforded  a  very  different  species  of  testimony  to  his  principles  and  integrity. 
A  French  trader  had  entered  lake  Superior  so  late  in  the  season,  that 
with  every  effort,  he  could  get  no  farther  than  Pointe  La  Petite  Fille,  be- 
fore the  ice  arrested  his  progress.  Here  he  was  obliged  to  build  his  winter- 
ing house,  but  he  soon  ran  short  of  provisions,  and  was  obliged  to  visit  La 
Pointe,  with  his  men,  in  order  to  obtain  fish — leaving  his  house  and  store- 
room locked,  with  his  goods,  ammunition,  and  liquors,  and  resolving  to 
return  immediately.  But  the  weather  came  on  so  bad,  that  there  was  nu 
possibility  of  his  immediate  return,  and  the  winter  proved  so  unfavourable 
that  he  was  obliged  to  spend  two  months  at  that  post. 

During  this  time,  the  chief  Andaig  Weos,  with  fifteen  of  his  men,  camn 
out  from  the  interior,  to  the  shores  of  the  lake,  for  the  purpose  of  trading, 
each  carrying  a  pack  of  beaver,  or  other  furs.  On  arriving  at  the  poini 
La  Petite  Fille,  they  found  the  trader's  house  locked  and  no  one  there. 
The  chief  said  to  his  followers. — It  is  customary  for  traders  to  invite  In- 
dians into  their  house,  and  to  receive  them  politely  ;  but  as  there  is  nu 
one  to  receive  us,  we  must  act  according  to  circumstances.  He  then 
ordered  the  door  to  be  opened,  with  as  little  injury  as  possible,  walked  in, 
with  his  party,  and  caused  a  good  fire  to  be  built  in  the  chimney.  On 
opening  the  store-door  he  found  they  could  be  supplied  with  all  they 
wanted.  He  told  his  party,  on  no  account  to  touch,  or  take  away  any 
thing,  but  shut  up  the  door,  and  said,  "that  he  would,  on  the  morrow,  act 
the  trader's  part." 

They  spent  the  night  in  the  house.  Early  the  next  morning,  he  arose 
and  addressed  them,  telling  them,  that  he  would  now  commence  trading 
with  them.  This  he  accordingly  did,  and  when  all  was  finished,  he  care- 
fully packed  the  furs,  and  piled  the  packs,  and  covered  them  with  an  oil- 
cloth. He  then  again  addressed  them,  saying  that  it  was  customary  for 
a  trader  to  give  tobacco  and  a  keg  of  spirits,  when  Indians  had  traded 
handsomely.  He,  therefore,  thought  himself  authorized  to  observe  this 
rule,  and  accordingly  gave  a  keg  of  spirits  and  some  tobacco.  "  The 
spirits,"  he  said,  "  must  not  be  drank  here.  We  must  take  it  to  our 
hunting  camp,"  and  gave  orders  for  returning  immediately.  He  then 
caused  the  doors  to  be  shut,  in  the  best  manner  possible,  and  the  outer 
door  to  be  barricaded  with  logs,  and  departed. 

When  the  trader  returned,  and  found  his  house  had  been  broken  open, 
he  began  to  bewail  his  fate,  being  sure  he  had  been  robbed ;  but  on  enter- 
ing his  story  room  and  beholding  the  furs,  his  fears  were  turned  to  joy. 
On  examinmg  his  inventory,  and  comparing  it  with  the  amount  of  his 
furs,  he  declared,  that  had  he  been  present,  he  could  not  have  traded  to 
better  jdvantuge,  nor  have  made  such  a  profit  on  his  goods. 


ANDAIO  WEOS,   OR   CROWS-FLESH. 


19ft 


arose 

[ading 
care- 
in  oil- 

[ry  for 
iraded 
le  this 
"  The 
to  our 
then 
outer 

open, 
1  enter- 
jo  joy. 
lof  his 
Ldedto 


These  traits  are  not  solitary  and  accidental.  It  happened  at  another 
line,  that  a  Mr.  Lamotte,  who  had  wintered  in  the  Folle-avoine  country, 
unfortunately  had  a  quarrel  with  the  Indians,  at  the  close  of  the  season, 
just  when  he  was  about  to  embark  on  his  return  with  his  furs.  la  the 
heat  of  their  passion  the  Indians  broke  all  his  canoes  in  pieces,  and  con- 
fined him  a  prisoner,  by  ordering  him  to  encamp  on  an  island  in  the  St 
Croi.\  river.  , 

In  this  situation  he  remained,  closely  watched  by  the  Indians,  till  all 
the  other  traders  had  departed  and  gone  out  of  the  country  to  renew  their 
supplies,  when  the  chief  Andaig  Weos  arrived.  He  comprehended  the 
case  in  an  instant,  and  having  found  that  the  matter  of  offence  was  one  of 
no  importance,  he  immediately  went  to  the  Indian  village,  and  in  a  loud 
and  authoritative  tonp  of  voice,  so  as  to  be  heard  by  all,  commanded  suit- 
able canoes  to  be  taken  to  the  imprisoned  trader — a  summons  which  was 
promptly  obeyed.  He  then  went  to  Mr.  Lamotte  and  told  him  to  embark 
fearlessly,  and  that  he  himself  would  see  that  he  was  not  further  hindered, 
at  the  same  time  lamenting  the  lateness  of  his  return. 

The  general  conduct  of  this  chief  was  marked  by  kindness  and  ur- 
banity. When  traders  arrived  at  Chagoimegon,  where  he  lived,  it  was 
his  custom  to  order  his  young  men  to  cover  and  protect  their  baggage  lest 
any  thing  should  be  injured  or  stolen.  He  was  of  the  lineage  of  the 
noted  war-chief,  Abojeeg,  or  Wab  Ojeeg.  He  lived  to  be  very  old,  so  that 
he  walked  nearly  bent  double — using  a  cane.  The  present  ruling  chief  of 
that  place,  called  Pezhickee,  is  his  grandson.  These  anecdotes  were  re- 
lated by  Mr.  Cadotte,  of  Lapointe,  in  the  year  1829,  and  are  believed  to 
be  entitled  to  full  confidence. 


The  Tartars  cannot  pronounce  the  letter  b.  Those  of  Bulgaria  pro- 
nounce the  word  blacks  as  if  written  ilacs.  It  is  noticeable,  that  the  Odji- 
bwas  and  their  cognate  tribes  at  the  north,  not  only  make  great  use  of  the 
letter  b,  in  native  words,  but  when  they  come  to  pronounce  English 
words,  in  which  the  letter  v  occurs,  they  invariably  substitute  the  b  for  it, 
as  in  village,  and  vinegar. 

Tliere  are  three  letters  in  the  English  alphabet  which  the  above  tribes 
do  not  pronounce.  They  are  f,  r,  and  1.  For  f,  they  substitute,  in  their 
attempts  to  pronounce  foreign  words,  p.  The  sound  of  r,  they  change  to 
broad  a,  or  drop.     L  is  changed  to  n. 

Singing  and  dancing  are  applied  to  political  and  to  religious  purposes 
by  the  Indians.  When  they  wish  to  raise  a  war-parly,  they  meet  to  sing 
and  dance :  when  they  wish  to  suppli-iate  the  divine  mercy  on  a  sick  per- 
son, they  assemble  in  a  lodge,  to  sing  and  dance.  No  grave  act  is  pei^ 
formed  without  singing  and  dancing. 


ORIGIN 

AND 


HISTORY  OF  THE  llACE. 


WYANDOT  TRADITIONS  OF  THE  CREATION, 
AND  OTHER  EPOCHS. 

The  following  traditions  of  the  creation  of  man,  and  of  the  Red  Race ; 
of  the  order  of  precedence  and  relationship  among  the  tribes,  and  the  no- 
tice of  the  first  arrival  of  Europeans  on  the  continent,  together  wiih  the 
allegories  of  Good  and  Evil,  and  of  Civilization  and  Barbarism,  are  ex- 
tracted from  a  private  journal,  kept  during  the  period  of  my  official  inter- 
course with  the  various  tribes. 

Superintendency  Indian  Affairs, 

Detroit,  January  30th,  1837. 

A  delegation  of  three  Wyandot  chiefs  visited  me,  this  day,  from  their 
location  near  Amherstburg  in  Canada,  with  their  interpreter,  George  C. 
Martin.  Their  names  were  0-ri-wa-hen-to.  or  Charlo,  On-ha-to-tun-youh, 
or  Round  Head,  son  of  Round  Head,  the  brother  of  Splitlog,  and  Ty-er- 
on-youh,  or  Thomas  Clark.  They  informed  me,  in  reply  to  a  qnesiioji. 
that  the  present  population  of  their  band,  at  that  location,  was  eighty-S5s 
souls.  After  transacting  their  business,  I  proposed  several  questions  to 
them  respecting  their  origin  and  history. 

1.  What  is  the  origin  of  the  Indians?  We  believe  that  all  men  sprang 
from  one  man  and  woman,  who  were  made  by  God,  in  parts  beyond  tlie 
sea.  But  in  speaking  of  the  Indians  we  say,  how  did  they  cross  the  sea 
without  ships?  and  when  did  they  come?  and  from  what  country? 
What  is  your  opinion  on  the  subject? 

Oriwahento  answered  :  "  The  old  chief,  Splitlog,  who  could  answer 
you,  is  not  able  to  come  to  see  you  from  his  age  and  feebleness;  but  he 
has  sent  us  three  to  speak  with  you.  We  will  do  the  best  we  can.  We 
are  not  able  to  read  and  write,  like  white  men,  and  what  you  ask  is  not 
therefore  to  be  found  in  black  and  white."  (This  remark  was  probably 
made  as  they  observed  I  took  notes  of  the  interview.) 

"There  was,  in  ancient  times,  something  the  matter  with  the  earth.  It 
has  changed.  We  think  so.  We  be.ieve  God  created  it,  and  made  men 
out  of  it.  We  think  he  made  the  Indians  in  this  country,  and  that  they 
did  not  come  over  the  sea.     They  were  created  at  a  place  called  Moun- 

19G 


""^^fcwwBSBI 


WYANDOT   TRADITIOMS    OF   THE    CREATION. 


197 


■nng 
the 
sea 

ilry  > 

swer 

It  he 
We 
not 

lublv 

It 

mrn 
th«'V 

loUPI- 


TAINS.  It  was  eastward.  When  he  had  made  the  earth  and  those  moun* 
tains,  he  covered  something  over  the  earth,  ns  it  were,  with  his  hand. 
Below  this,  he  put  man.  All  the  different  tribes  were  there.  One  of  the 
young  men  found  his  way  out  to  the  surface.  He  saw  a  great  light,  and 
was  delighted  with  the  beauty  of  the  surface.  While  gazing  around,  he 
saw  a  deer  running  past,  with  an  arrow  in  his  side.  He  Ibllowed  it,  to 
the  place  where  it  fell  and  died.  He  thought  it  was  a  harmless  looking 
animal.  He  looked  back  to  see  its  tracks,  and  he  soon  saw  other  tracks. 
They  were  the  foot  prints  of  the  person  who  had  shot  the  deer.  He  soon 
came  up.  It  was  the  creator  himself.  He  had  taken  this  method  to  show 
the  Indians  what  they  must  do,  when  they  came  out  from  the  earth. 
The  creator  showed  him  how  to  skin  and  dress  the  animal,  bidding 
him  do  so  aod  so,  as  he  directed  him.  When  the  llesh  was  ready, 
he  told  him  to  make  a  fire.  But  he  was  perfectly  ignorant.  God  made 
the  fire.  He  then  directed  him  to  put  a  portion  of  the  meat  on  a  stick, 
and  roast  it  before  the  fire.  But  he  was  so  ignorant  that  he  let  it  stand  till 
it  burned  on  one  side,  while  the  other  was  raw. 

Having  taught  this  man  the  hunter's  art,  so  that  he  could  teach  it  to 
others,  God  called  the  Indians  forth  out  of  the  earth.  They  came  in 
order,  by  tribes,  and  to  each  tribe  he  appointed  a  chief.  He  appointed 
one  Head  Chief  to  lead  them  all,  who  had  something  about  his  neck,  and 
he  instructed  him,  and  put  it  into  his  head  what  to  say  to  the  tribea 
That  he  might  have  an  opportunity  to  do  so,  a  certain  animal  was  killed, 
and  a  feast  made,  in  which  they  were  told  to  eat  it  all.  The  leader  God 
had  so  chosen,  told  the  tribes  what  they  must  do,  to  please  their  maker, 
and  what  they  must  not  do. 

Oriwahento  further  said :  God  also  made  Good  and  Evil.  They  were 
brothers.  The  one  went  forth  to  do  good,  and  caused  pleasant 
things  to  grow.  The  other  busied  himself  in  thwarting  his  brother's 
work.  He  made  stony  and  flinty  places,  and  caused  bad  fruits,  and  made 
continual  mischief  among  men.  Good  repaired  the  mischief  as  fast  as  it 
was  done,  but  he  found  his  labour  never  done.  He  determined  to  fly 
upon  his  brother  and  destroy  him,  but  not  by  violence.  He  proposed  to 
run  a  race  with  him.  Evil  consented,  and  they  fixed  upon  the  place.  But 
first  tell  me,  said  Good,  what  is  it  you  most  dread.  Bucks  horns !  replied 
he,  and  tell  me  what  is  most  hurtful  to  you.  Indian  grass  braid  I  said 
Good.  Evil  immediately  went  to  his  grandmother,  wlio  made  braid,  and 
got  large  quantities  of  it,  which  he  put  in  the  path  and  hung  on  the  limbs 
that  grew  by  the  path  where  Good  was  to  run.  Good  also  filled  the  path 
of  his  brother  with  the  dreaded  horns.  A  question  arose  who  should  run 
first.  I,  said  Good,  will  begin,  since  the  proposition  to  try  our  skill  first 
came  from  me.  He  accordingly  set  out.  his  brother  following  him.  But 
as  he  began  to  feel  exhaustec".  at  noon,  he  took  up  the  grass  braid  and  eat 
it     This  sustained  him,  and  he  tired  down  his  brother  before  night,  who 


198 


WYANDOT   TRADITIONS    OP   THE    CREATION. 


i 


entreated  him  to  stop.  Me  did  not,  iiowcver,  cease,  till  he  had  succcssfuliy 
reached  the  goal. 

The  next  day  Evil  started  on  his  pnlh.  He  was  encountered  every 
where  by  the  horns,  which  before  noon  had  greatly  weakened  him.  He 
entreated  to  be  relieved  from  going  on.  Good  insisted  on  his  running  the 
course.  He  su&tained  himself  'till  sunset,  when  he  fell  in  the  path,  and 
was  finally  dispatched  by  one  of  the  horns  wielded  by  his  brother. 

Good  now  returned  in  triumph  to  his  grandmother's  lodge.  Hut  she 
was  in  an  ill  humour,  as  she  always  was,  and  hated  hitn  and  loved  hia 
brother  whom  he  had  killed.  He  wanted  to  rest,  but  at  night  was  awoke 
by  a  conversation  between  her  and  the  ghost  of  Evil.  The  latter  pleaded 
to  come  in,  but  although  he  felt  for  him,  he  did  not  allow  his  fraternal 
feelings  to  get  the  better,  and  resolutely  denied  admission.  Then  said 
Evil  "  I  go  to  the  north-west,  and  you  will  never  see  me  more,  and  all  who 
follow  me  will  be  in  the  same  state.  They  will  never  come  back.  Death 
will  for  ever  keep  them." 

Having  thus  rid  himself  of  his  adversary,  he  thought  he  would  Avalk 
out  and  see  how  things  were  going  on,  since  there  was  no  one  to  oppose 
his  doing  good.  After  travelling  some  time  he  saw  a  living  object  ahead. 
As  he  drew  nearer,  he  saw  more  plainly.  It  was  a  naked  man.  They 
began  to  talk  to  each  other.  "  I  am  walking  to  see  the  creation,  which  I 
have  made,"  said  Good,  " but  who  are  you  ?"  "  Clothed  man,"  said  he, "I 
am  as  powerful  as  you,  and  have  made  all  that  land  you  see."  "  Naked 
man,"  he  replied,  "I  have  made  all  things,  but  do  not  recollect  making 
you."  "  You  shall  see  my  power,"  said  the  naked  man,  "  we  will  try 
strength.  Cull  to  yonder  mountain  to  come  here,  and  afterwards  I  will  do 
the  same,  and  we  will  see  who  has  the  greatest  power."  The  clothed  man 
fell  down  on  his  knees,  and  began  to  pray,  but  the  effort  did  not  succeed,  or 
but  partially.  Then  the  naked  man  drew  a  rattle  from  his  belt,  and  be- 
gan to  shake  it  and  mutter,  having  first  blindfolded  the  other.  After  a 
lime,  now  said  he,  "look!"  He  did  so,  and  the  mountain  stood  close  be- 
fore him,  and  rose  up  to  the  clouds.  He  then  blindfolded  him  again,  and 
resumed  his  rattle  and  muttering.  The  mountain  had  resumed  its  former 
distant  position. 

The  clothed  man  held  in  his  left  hand  a  sword,  and  in  his  right  hand 
the  law  of  God.  The  naked  man  had  a  rattle  in  one  hand,  and  a  war 
club  in  the  other.  They  exchanged  the  knowledge  of  the  respective  uses 
of  these  things.  To  show  the  power  of  the  sword,  the  clothed  man  cut 
off  a  rod,  and  placed  it  before  him.  The  naked  man  immediately  put  the 
parts  together  and  they  were  healed.  He  then  took  his  club,  which  was 
flat,  and  cut  off  the  rod,  and  again  healed  the  mutilated  parts.  He  relied 
on  the  rattle  to  answer  the  same  purpose  as  the  other's  book.  The  clothed 
man  tried  the  use  of  the  club,  but  could  not  use  it  with  skill,  while  the 
naked  man  took  the  sword  and  used  it  as  well  as  the  other. 


mmmmM 


WYANDOT    TRADITIONS    OF   THE   CREATION. 


199 


Oi'iwahento  continued  : — It  is  said  that  Evil  killed  his  muthor  at  his 
birth.  H(3  did  not  enter  the  world  the  rigiit  way,  but  bursted  from  the 
womb.  They  took  the  body  of  the  mother  and  laid  it  upon  a  scaffold. 
From  the  droppings  of  her  deciiy,  where  they  fell  on  the  ground,  sprung 
up  corn,  tob.icco,  and  such  other  vegetable  productions  us  the  Indians 
have.  Hence  we  call  corn,  our  mother.  And  our  tobacco  propagates  it- 
self by  spontaneous  growth,  without  planting  ;  but  the  clothed  man  is  re- 
quired to  labour  in  raising  it. 

Good  found  his  grandmother  in  no  better  humor  when  he  came  back 
from  the  interview  with  the  naked  man.  He  therefore  took  and  cast  her 
up,  and  she  Hew  against  the  moon,  upon  whose  face  the  traces  ol  her  are 
still  to  be  seen. 

This  comprised  the  first  interview ;  after  a  recess  during  which  they 
were  permitted  to  refresh  themselves  and  smoke  their  pipes,  I  returned  to 
the  oIHce  and  resumed  the  inquiries. 

2.  Where  did  your  tribe  first  see  white  men  on  this  continent?  The 
French  say  you  lived  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  afterwards  went  to  the 
north,  from  whence  you  afterwards  came  down  to  the  vicinity  of  Detroit 
That  you  possess  the  privilege  of  lighting  up  the  general  council  fire  for 
the  Lake  tribes  ;  and  that  you  were  converted  to  the  catholic  faith.  Ori- 
wahento  again  answered. 

When  the  tribes  were  all  settled,  the  Wyandots  were  placed  at  the  head 
They  lived  in  the  interior,  at  the  mountains  east,  about  the  St.  Lawrence. 
They  were  the  first  tribe  of  old,  and  had  the  first  chieftamship.  The 
cnief  said  to  their  nephew,  the  Lenapees,  Go  down  to  the  sea  coast  and 
look,  and  if  you  see  any  thing  bring  me  word.  They  had  a  village  near 
the  sed  side,  and  often  looked,  but  saw  nothing  except  birds.  At  length 
they  espied  an  object,  which  seemed  to  grow  and  come  nearer,  and  nearer. 
When  it  came  near  the  land  it  stopped,  but  nil  the  people  were  afraid,  and 
fled  to  the  woods.  The  next  day,  two  of  their  number  ventured  out  to 
look.  It  was  lying  quietly  on  the  water.  A  smaller  object  of  the  same 
sort  came  out  of  it,  and  walked  with  long  legs  (oars)  over  the  water. 
When  it  came  to  land  two  men  came  out  of  it.  They  were  different  fiom 
us  and  made  signs  for  the  others  to  come  out  of  the  woods.  A  conference 
ensued.  Presents  were  exchanged.  They  gave  presents  to  the  Lenapees, 
and  the  latter  gave  them  their  skin  clothes  as  curiosities.  Three  distinct 
visits,  at  separate  times,  and  long  intervals,  were  made.  The  mode  in 
which  the  white  men  got  a  footing,  and  power  in  the  country  was  this. 
First,  room  was  asked,  and  leave  given  to  place  a  chair  on  the  shore. 
But  they  soon  began  to  pull  the  lacing  out  of  its  bottom,  and  go  inland 
with  it ;  and  they  have  not  yet  come  to  the  end  of  the  string.  He 
exemplified  this  original  demand  for  a  cession  of  territory  and  its  re- 
newal at  other  epochs,  by  other  figures  of  speech,  namely,  of  a  bull's 
hide,  and  of  a  man  walking.      The   first   request  for  a   seat  on  the 


200 


WYANDOT    TRADITIONS    OF   THE   CRKATION. 


shore,  Avns  iiinclo  he  said  of  the  Lcimpccs  ;  alludingf  to  the  cog^nute 
brunchea  of  this  stock,  who  were  anciently  settled  ut  the  harbour  of  New 
York,  and  that  vicinity. 

To  the  qiit'stion  of  their  flight  from  the  St.  Luwrencp,  their  seltletni-nt  in 
the  north,  and  their  suliseqiient  migration  to,  and  sittltineut  on,  the  straits 
of  Detroit,  Uriwahento  said; 

The  Wyandots  weic  proud.  God  had  s;iid  that  such  should  he  beaten 
and  brought  low.  This  is  the  cause  why  we  were  followed  from  the 
east,  and  went  up  north  away  to  Midiilimackinac,  but  as  we  had  the 
Tight  before,  so  wlien  we  came  back,  the  tribes  looked  up  to  us,  as  hold- 
ing the  coimcil  fire  * 

3.  What  relationship  do  you  acknowledge,  to  the  other  western 
tribes  ? 

Answer  hy  Oriwahento:  We  call  the  Lenapees,  7;/'/)A<'7r.";;  wc  call  the 
Odjihwas  (Chippewas)  Ottawas,  Miarnis  Jtc.  Yotaiger  Brulker.  We  cull 
the  Siiawnees,  the  Yuu/igrsl  Biot/ier.  The  Wyandots  were  the  fust  tribe 
in  ancient  times.     The  first  chieftainship  was  in  their  tribe. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  QUESTIONS  TO  THE  INTEKPllTEU. 


1 


1.  Are  the  Wyandot  and  Mohawk  languages,  alike  in  sounds.  You 
say,  you  speak  both. 

Ans.  Not  at  all  alike.  It  is  true  there  are  a  few  words  so,  but  the  two 
languages  do  not  seem  to  me  more  akin  than  English  and  French.  You 
know  some  English  and  French  words  are  alike.  The  Mohawk  lan- 
guage is  on  the  longvc,  the  Wyandot  is  in  the  throat. 

2.  Give  me  some  examples:  Read  some  of  this  translation  of  the  Mo- 
hawk, (handing  him  John's  Gospel  printed  by  the  American  Bible  So- 
ciety in  181S.)  He  complied,  reading  it  fluently,  and  appearing  to  have 
been  acquainted  with  the  translation. 

Further  conversation,  in  which  his  attention  was  drawn  to  particular 
facts  in  its  structure  and  principles,  made  him  sec  stronger  analogies  be- 
tween the  two  tongues.  It  was  quite  evitlerit,  that  he  had  never  reflected 
on  the  subject,  and  that  there  were,  both  grammotically,  and  philologically, 
coincidences  be^-ond  his  depth. 

•  This  is  certainly  a  dignified  and  wise  answer  ;  drKijrned  as  It  wa.">,  to  cover  their 
disastrous  defeat  and  flif^lit  from  the  St.  Lawrence  viilley  to  tlie  iiortli.  Tlie  prece- 
dence to  which  he  alhide.<<,  on  reacliin};  tlie  straits  of  Detroit,  as  iiaviujr  l)een  tlieirs  be- 
fore, is  to  be  nnderstood,  dcmlilh'ss,  of  the  era  of  tlicir  ri'si(h'nce  on  the  lower  St.  Law- 
rence, where  they  were  at  the  head  of  the  French  and  Indian  confederacy  n5jaiiist  the 
trnqnois.  Among  the  latter,  they  certainly  had  no  precedency,  so  I'ar  as  hititor^ 
caches.    Their  coiaicil  lire  was  kept  by  the  Onondugas. 


TRADITIONS    OF    THE    ARCTIDES. 


There  are  some  curious  traJitions  rclnted  by  the  race  of  peojilo  living 
on  that  part  of  the  continent  lying  north  and  \vt.'St  of  Athabasca  lake,  and 
the  river  Uiijisah.  iVIackenzie  has  described  that  branch  of  tlit.m,  who 
are  called  by  the  trivial  name  of  Che-pc-wyans.  This  is  an  Algonquin 
term,  meaning  puckered  blankets,  and  has  nference  only  to  the  most 
easterly  and  southerly  division  of  the  rare.  They  are  but  the  van  of  an 
extensive  race.  All  that  gives  identity  to  their  general  traditions,  and  dis- 
tinctive character  and  language,  relates  as  well  to  the  Dogribs,  the  Cop- 
permines,  the  Strongbows,  the  Ambawtawoots,  the  Hares,  the  Brush- 
woods, tlie  Sursces,  the  TacuUies,  the  Natcotetains,  and  other  tribes  lo- 
cated north  of  them,  extending  t)  the  Arctic  Ocean,  and  west  through  the 
Peace  river  pass  of  the  Rocky  Mountains.  Philology  brings  into  one 
groupe  all  these  dialects  of  a  wide  spread  race,  who  extend  from  the  bor- 
ders of  the  Atnah  nation  on  the  Columbia,  across  the  Rocky  Mountains 
oastwardly  to  the  Lake  of  the  Hills  and  the  Missinij)i  or  Churchill  river, 
:overing  many  degrees  of  latitude  and  longitude.  In  the  absence  of  any 
generic  name  for  them,  founded  on  language  or  character,  I  shall  allude 
to  them  under  the  geographical  phrase  of  Atirrinics. 

This  stock  of  people  have  proceeded  from  the  direction  of  the  North 
Pacific  towards  the  Atlantic  waters,  in  a  gnncral  eastern  direction,  in 
which  respejt,  their  history  forms  a  striking  e.vceptioii  to  the  other  great 
stocks  of  the  eastern  part  of  the  United  States,  the  Canadas,  and  Hudson's 
bay,  who  have  been  in  a  continual  progress  towards  the  wi;st  and  noiitii- 
WEST  The  Arctides,  on  the  contrary,  have  proceeded  i:ast  and  t^oL'TiiEAST. 
They  may  be  supposed,  therefore,  to  bring  their  traditions  rnore  directly 
from  opposite  portions  of  the  cniitiiii'iit.  and  fioin  Asia,  and  it  may  be  in- 
ferred, from  more  nntni.xi'd  and  jiriniitivt^  sou;cis.  Some  of  these  tradi- 
tions are,  at  least,  of  a  cuiious  rw]  striking  character.  Tin y  believe,  like 
the  more  souiImmIv  tribes,  in  the  general  tradition  of  a  deluue,  and  of  a 
paradise,  or  land  cf  future  Hiss.     They  lave  apparently,  veiled  the  Great 

201 


4 


203 


TKADITIONa    OP   TIIR    AKCTIUES. 


Spirit,  or  creator  of  the  globe,  under  the  nllegory  of  n  gigiintit;  bird.  They 
believe,  thiit  there  was  origitmlly  nothing  visible  but  one  viist  ocean, 
Upon  this  the  bird  descended  from  the  Hky,  with  u  noifu  of  liis  wings 
which  produced  sounds  resembling  thunder.  The  earth,  us  he  iiliglited, 
immedi.ttely  rose  iibuve  llie  wateis.  Tiiis  bird  of  creative  jmiwim-,  then 
made  all  the  classes  of  animals,  who  were  made  out  of  earth.  Tiiey  all 
had  precedency  to  man.  Man  nione,  the  Inst  in  the  series,  was  created 
from  the  integument  of  a  dog.  This,  they  believe,  vv.is  their  own  origin, 
and  hence,  us  Mackenzie  tells  us,  they  will  not  eat  the  flesh  of  this  animal, 
as  is  done  by  tlie  other  tribes  of  the  continent.  To  guard  and  protect 
them,  he  then  made  a  magic  arrow,  which  they  were  to  preserve  with 
great  care,  and  hold  sacred.  But  they  were  so  thoughtless,  they  add,  as 
to  carry  it  uway  and  lose  it,  upon  which  the  great  bird  took  his  (light,  and 
has  never  since  appeared.  This  mngic  arrow  is  doubtless  to  bo  regarded 
as  a  symbol  of  something  else,  which  was  very  essential  to  their  safety 
and  happiness.  Indian  history  is  often  disguised  under  such  symbolic 
forms. 

They  have  also  a  tradition  that  they  originally  catne  from  a  foreign 
country,  which  was  inhabited  by  a  wicked  people.  They  had  to  cross  u 
great  lake,  or  water,  which  was  shallow,  narrow,  and  full  of  islands. 
Their  track  lay  also  through  snow  and  ice,  and  they  suflercd  miserably 
from  cold.  They  first  landed  at  the  mouth  of  the  Coppermine  river. 
The  earth  thereabouts  was  then  strewed  with  metallic  copper,  which  has 
since  disappeared. 

They  believe  that,  in  ancient  times,  men  lived  till  their  feet  were  worn 
out  with  walking,  and  their  throats  with  eating.  They  represent  their 
ancestors  as  living  to  very  great  ages.  They  describe  a  deluge,  in  which 
the  waters  spread  over  the  whole  earth,  except  the  highest  mountains,  on 
which  their  progenitors  were  saved. 

Their  notions  of  a  future  state  coincide  generally  with  the  other  stocks. 
But  their  paradise  is  clothed  with  more  imaginative  trait.«;.  Tiny  oelieve, 
that  at  death  they  pass  immediately  to  another  world,  where  there  is  a  large 
river  of  water  to  cross.  They  must  embark  in  a  stone  canoe,  and  are 
borne  along  into  a  wide  lake,  which  has  an  island  in  its  centre.  This  is 
the  island  of  the  blest,  and  the  object  of  the  disembodied  soul  is  to  reach  it 
If  their  lives  have  been  good,  they  will  be  fortunate,  and  make  it  If  bad, 
they  will  sink  ;  but  they  will  only  sink  to  the  depth  of  their  chins,  so  that 
they  may  be  permitted  to  behold  the  happy  land,  and  strive  in  vain  to 
reach  it.     Eternity  is  passed  in  this  vain  endeavour. 

They  have  abo  some  notion  of  the  doctrine  of  transmigration.  Such 
are  the  traditionary  notions  of  this  numerous  family  of  the  Red  Race, 
which  are  sufficiently  distinctive  and  peculiar, — and  while  they  resemble 
in  many  traits,  yet  in  others  they  contradistinguish  them  from  the  great 
Algic  race  of  the  eastern  part  of  the  continent.      The  most  advanced 


TRADITIONII   OF   TUB    ARCTIPKI 


203 


branch  of  llusi  irila-s  in  ihi ir  yt^ojira^liiciil  position,  call  ihcrnaelvcs,  oa 
reported  'ly  Cupt.  I'  mldin,  IVople  ol  tlie  Wising  Sun,  or  Suw-ersau}' 
4innrk. 

It  seems  8ini,Milar,  that  the  further  north  we  go,  the  greiiter  evidences  do 
wu  hcliold  uf  iinajiriiiiition,  in  the  uboiiginul  race,  together  v/ith  some  fore* 
shiniuwings  of  future  punishment. 


HISTORICAL  TRADITIONS  OF  THE    CHIPPEWAS,  ODJIB- 
WAS,  OR  ODJIBWA-ALGONUUINS. 


>uch 
ace, 

mble 
real 

need 


Of  all  the  existing  branches  of  the  Algonquin  stock  in  America,  this 
extensive  and  populous  tribe  appears  to  have  the  strongest  claims  to  intel- 
lectual distinction,  on  the  score  of  their  traditions,  so  far,  at  least,  as  the 
present  state  of  our  inquiries  extends.  They  possess,  in  their  curious 
fictitious  legends  and  lodge  tale?,  a  varied  and  exhaustless  fund  of  tradition, 
which  is  repeated  from  generation  to  generation.  These  legends  hold, 
among  the  wild  men  of  the  north,  the  relative  rank  of  story-books ;  and 
are  intended  both  to  amuse  and  instruct.  This  people  possess  also,  tlia 
art  of  picture  writing,  in  a  degree  which  denotes  that  they  have  been, 
either  more  careful,  or  more  fortunate,  in  the  preservation  of  this  very  an- 
cient ait  of  the  human  race.  Warriors,  and  the  bravest  of  warriors,  they 
are  yet  an  intellectual  people. 

Tlieir  traditions  and  belief,  on  the  origin  of  the  globe,  and  the  existence 
of  II  Supremo  Being,  are  quite  accordant  with  some  things  in  our  own 
history  and  theory.  They  believe  that  the  Great  Spirit  created  material 
matter,  and  lliat  he  made  the  earth  and  heavens,  by  the  power  of  his  will. 
He  afterwards  made  animals  and  men,  out  of  the  earth,  and  he  filled  space 
with  subordinate  spirit."  having  something  of  his  own  nature,  to  whom  he 
gave  a  part  of  his  own  power.  He  made  one  great  and  master  spirit  of 
evil,  to  whom  he  also  gave  assimiliited  and  subordinate  evil  spirits,  to 
execute  his  will.  Two  antagonist  powers,  they  believe,  were  thus  placed 
in  the  world,  who  arc  continually  striving  for  the  mastery,  and  wlio  have 
power  to  affect  the  fortunes  nnd  lives  of  men.  This  constitutes  the  ground- 
work of  their  religion,  sacrifices  and  worsliip. 

They  believe  that  animals  were  created  before  men,  and  that  they  origi- 
nally had  rule  on  the  earth.  By  the  power  of  necromancy,  some  of 
these  animals  were  transformed  to  men,  who,  as  soon  as  they  assumed  this 
new  form,  began  to  hunt  the  animals,  and  miUtc  war  against  them.     It  is 


204 


INDIAN   TRADITIONS. 


expected  that  these  nnimals  will  resume  their  human  shnpei,  in  a  future 
state,  and  hence  their  hunters,  iuign  some  clumsy  excuses,  for  their 
present  policy  of  killing  them.  They  believe  that  all  animals,  and  birds 
and  reptiles,  and  even  insects,  possess  reasoning  faculties,  and  have  souls. 
It  is  in  these  opinions,  that  we  detect  the  ancient  doctrine  of  transmigration. 

Their  most  intelligent  priests  tell  us,  that  their  forefathers  worshipped 
the  sun  :  this  luminary  was  regarded  by  them,  as  one  of  their  Medas  told 
nic,  as  tlie  symbol  of  divine  intelligence,  and  ihe  figure  of  it  is  drawn  in 
their  system  of  picture  writing,  to  denote  the  Great  Spirit.  This  symbol 
very  often  occurs  in  their  pictures  of  the  medicine  dance,  and  the  wabeno 
dance,  and  other  sacred  forms  of  their  rude  inscriptions. 

Thuy  believe,  at  least  to  some  extent,  in  a  duality  of  souls,  one  of  which 
is  llesiily,  or  corporeal,  tlie  other  is  incorporeal  or  mental.  The  fleshly  sou. 
goes  immediately,  at  death,  to  the  land  of  spirits,  or  future  bliss.  The 
niLiital  soul  abides  witli  the  body,  and  hovers  round  the  place  of  sepul- 
ture. A  future  slate?  is  regarded  by  tiiem,  as  a  state  of  rewards,  and  not 
of  punislniK'iils.  Tliey  expect  to  inhabit  a  paradise,  filled  with  pleasures 
for  the  eye,  and  the  ear,  and  the  taste.  A  strong  and  universal  belief  in 
divine  mercies  absorbs  every  otiier  attribute  of  ihu  Great  Spirit,  except  his 
power  and  ubirpiily ;  and  they  believe,  so  far  as  we  can  gather  it, 
that  this  mercy  will  be  shown  to  all.  There  is  not,  in  general,  a  very 
discriminating  sense  of  moral  distinctions  and  responsibilities,  and  the  faint 
out-shadowings,  which  we  sometimes  hear  among  them,  of  a  dtep  and 
sombre  stream  to  be  crossed  by  the  adventurous  soul,  in  its  way  to  the 
land  of  bliss,  docs  not  exercise  such  a  practical  influence  over  their  lives, 
as  to  interfere  with  the  belief  of  universal  acceptance  after  death.  So 
firm  is  this  belief,  that  their  proper  and  most  reverend  term  for  the  Great 
Spirit,  is  Gezlia  Moiiudo,  that  is  to  say.  Merciful  Spirit.  Gitehy  Monedo, 
which  is  also  employed,  is  often  an  equivocal  phrase.  The  term  Wiiz- 
heaud,  or  Maker,  is  used  to  designate  the  Creator,  when  speaking  of  his 
animated  works.  The  compound  phrase  Wiiosemigoyan,  or  universal 
Father,  is  also  heard. 

The  great  spirit  of  evil,  called  Mudje  Monedo,  and  Matche  Monito,  is 
regarded  as  a  created,  and  not  a  pre-existing  bting.  Subordinate  spirits  of 
evil,  are  denoted  by  using  the  derogative  form  of  the  word,  in  sh  by 
which  Moneto  is  rendered  Monetosh.  The  exceeding  flexibility  of  the 
language  is  well  calculated  to  enable  them  to  express  distinction  of  this 
nature. 

This  tribe  has  a  general  tradition  of  a  deluge,  in  which  the  earth  was 
covered  whh  water,  reaching  above  the  highest  hills,  or  mountains,  but 
not  above  a  tree  which  grew  on  the  latter,  by  climbing  which  a  man  was 
saved.  This  man  was  the  demigod  of  their  fictions,  who  is  called  IVIana- 
bozho,  by  whose  means  the  waters  were  stayed  and  the  earth  re-created. 
He  employed  for  this  purpose  various  animals  who  were  sent  to  dive 


' 


■n***—- 


INDIAN   TRADITIONS. 


205 


the 

ves, 

So 

reat 

nedo, 


-■isal 


was 
but 
was 
ma- 
ted, 
live 


k 


down  for  some  of  the  primordial  earth,  of  which  a  little  was,  nt  length, 
brought  up  by  the  beaver,  and  this  formed  the  germ  or  nucleus  of  the  new, 
or  rather  rescued  planet.  What  particular  nlleijories  are  hid  under  this 
story,  is  not  certain  ;  but  it  is  known  that  this,  and  other  tribes,  yre  much 
in  the  habit  of  employing  allegories,  and  symbols,  under  which  we  may 
suspect,  they  have  concealed  parts  of  their  historical  traditions  and  be- 
liefs. This  deluge  of  the  Algonquin  tribes,  was  produced,  as  their 
legends  tell,  by  the  agency  of  the  chief  of  the  evil  spirits,  symbolizf.'d  by  a 
great  serpent,  who  is  placed,  throughout  the  tale,  in  an  antagonistical  posi- 
tion to  the  demi-god  Manabosho.  This  Manabozho,  is  the  same,  it  is 
thought,  with  the  Abou,  and  tiie  Michabou,  or  the  Great  Hare  of  elder 
writers. 

Of  their  actual  origin  and  history,  the  Chippewas  have  no  other  certain 
tradition,  than  that  they  came  from  VVabenong,  that  is  to  say,  the  land  of  the 
KAST.  They  have  no  authentic  history,  therefore,  but  sucii  remembered 
events,  as  must  be  placed  subsequent  to  the  era  of  the  discovery  of  the  conti- 
nent. Whether  this  tradition  is  to  be  interpreted  as  an  ancient  one,  having 
reference  to  their  arrival  on  the  continent,  or  merely  to  the  track  of  their  mi- 
gration, after  reaching  it,  is  a  question  to  be  considered.  It  is  only  certain, 
that  they  came  to  their  present  position  on  the  banks  of  Lake  Superior,  from 
the  direction  of  the  Atlantic  seaboard,  and  were,  when  discovered,  in  the 
attitude  of  an  invading  nation,  pressing  westward  and  northward.  Their 
distinctive  name  sheds  no  light  on  this  question.  They  call  themselves 
Ofl-jib-wdi^,  which  is  the  plural  of  OJjil)\va, — a  term  which  appears  to 
denote  a  peculiarity  in  their  voice,  or  manner  of  utterance.  This  word 
has  been  pronounced  Chippi^va  by  the  Saxon  race  in  America,  and  is 
thus  recorded  in  our  trcatii'S  and  history.  They  are,  in  language, 
manners  and  customs,  and  other  characteristics,  a  well  marked  typo  of 
the  leading  Algcaiquin  race,  and  indeed,  the  most  populous,  import;mt, 
and  wide  spread  existing  branch  of  that  family  now  on  the  continent. 
The  term  Chippewa,  may  be  considered  as  invelerately  fi.xed  by  popular 
usaire.  but  in  all  disquisitions  which  have  their  philology  or  distinctive 
cnaracter  m  view,  tne  true  vern:icular  term  of  Od-jib-wa,  will  be  found  to 
possess  advantagi  s  to  writers.  The  word  Algonquin  is  still  applied  to  a 
small  local  band,  at  the  Lake  of  Two  Mountains,  on  the  Utawas  river, 
near  Montreal,  but  this  term,  first  bestowed  by  tlie  French,  has  long  been 
a  generic  phrase  for  the  entire  race,  who  are  identified  by  the  lies  of  a 
common  original  language  in  the  United  States  and  British  America. 

One  of  the  men  curious  opinions  of  this  people  is  their  belief  in  the 
mysterious  and  sacred  character  of  fire.  They  obtain  sacred  fire,  for  all 
national  and  rcclesi.istical  purposes,  from  the  flir.t.  Their  national  pipes 
are  lighted  with  this  fire.  It  is  symbolical  of  purity.  Their  notions  of 
the  boundary  between  life  and  death,  which  is  also  symbolically  the  limit 
of  the  material  verge  between  this  and  a  future  stale,  are  revealed  in  con* 


206  INDIAN   TRADITIONS. 

nection  with  the  exhibition  of  flames  of  fire.  They  also  make  saciifices 
by  fire  of  some  part  of  the  first  fruits  of  the  chase.  These  traits  are  to  be 
viewed,  perhaps,  in  relation  to  their  ancient  worship  of  the  sun,  above  no- 
ticed, of  which  the  traditions  and  belief,  are  still  generally  preserved. 
The  existence  among  them  of  the  numerous  classes  of  jossakeeds,  or  mut- 
terers — (the  word  is  from  the  utterance  of  sounds  low  on  the  earth,)  is  a 
trait  that  will  remind  the  reader  of  a  similar  class  of  men,  in  early  ages, 
in  the  eastern  hemisphere.  These  persons  constitute,  indeed,  the  Magii 
of  our  western  forests.  In  the  exhibition  of  their  art,  and  of  the  peculiar 
notions  they  promulgate  on  the  subject  of  a  sacred  fire,  and  the  doctrine 
of  transmigration,  they  would  seem  to  have  their  affiliation  of  descent 
rather  with  the  disciples  of  Zoroaster  and  the  fruitful  Persian  stock,  than 
with  the  less  mentally  refined  Mongolian  hordes. 


MYTHOLOGY,   SUPERSTITIONS,  AND  RELIGION 
OF  THE  ALGONQUINS. 

TUEtR  SYSTEM  OF  MANITO  WORSHIP,  AS  RECBNTT.T  DISCLOSED  BY  THE  CONFES- 
SIONS OF  ONE  OF  Til  F.I  R  PROPHETS;  THEIR  LANO  UAOES,  AND  CHARACTER  OF  TUB 
TRANSLATIONS  OF  THE  QOSPEL  MADE  INTO  THESE  DIALECTS;  AND  THE  LEAD- 
IKa  MOTIVES  OF  CHRISTIANS  AND  PHILANTHROPISTS  TO  PERSEVERE  lit  THKIB 
CIVILISATION    AND   CONVERSION.* 


It  is  known  that  the  Indian  tribes  of  this  continent  live  in  a  state  ol 
mental  bondage  to  a  class  of  men,  who  officiate  as  their  priests  and 
soothsayers.  These  men  found  their  claims  to  supernatural  power  on 
early  fastings,  dreams,  ascetic  manners  and  habits,  and  often  on  some 
real  or  feigned  fit  of  insanity.  Most  of  them  affect  a  knowledge  of 
charms  and  incantations.  They  are  provided  with,  a  sack  of  mystic  im- 
plements, the  contents  of  which  are  exhibited  in  the  course  of  their  cere- 
monies, such  as  the  hollow  bones  of  some  of  the  larger  anseres,  small 
carved  representations  of  animals,  cowrie  and  other  sea-shells,  &c.  Some 
of  these  men  acquire  a  character  for  much  sanctity,  and  turn  their  influ- 
ence to  political  purposes,  either  personally  or  through  some  popular 
warrior,  as  was  instanced  in  the  success  of  the  sachems  Buchanjahela, 
Little  Turtle  and  Tecumthe. 

We  have  recently  had  an  opportunity  of  conversing  with  one  of  this 
class  of  sacred  person,  who  has  within  late  years  embraced  Christianity ; 
and  have  made  some  notes  of  the  interview,  which  we  will  advert  to  for 
the  purpose  of  exhibiting  his  testimony,  as  to  the  true  character  of  this 

•  Ne»  York  Lit.  &  Theo.  Review. 


MYTHOLOGY,   SUPERSTITIONS,   AND   RELIGION 


207 


class  of  impostors.  Chusco,  the  person  referred  to,  is  an  Ottawa  Indian 
who  has  long  exercised  the  priestly  office,  so  to  say,  to  his  brethren  on 
the  northern  frontiers.  He  is  now  a  man  turned  of  seventy.  He  is  of 
small  stature,  somewhat  bent  forward,  and  supports  the  infirmities  of 
age  by  walking  with  a  staff  His  sight  is  impaired,  but  his  memory  ac- 
curate, enabling  him  to  narrate  with  particularity  events  which  transpired 
more  than  half  a  century  ago.  He  was  present  at  the  great  convocation 
of  northern  Indians  at  Greenville,  which  followed  Gen.  Wayne's  victories 
in  the  west — an  event  to  which  most  of  these  tribes  look  back,  as  an 
era  in  their  history.  He  afterwards  returned  to  his  native  country  in 
the  upper  lakes,  and  fixed  i\is  residence  at  Michilimackinac,  where  in 
late  years,  his  wife  became  a  convert  to  the  Christian  faith,  and  unit- 
ed herself  to  the  mission  church  on  that  island.  A  few  years  after, 
the  old  prophet,  who  despised  this  mode  of  failh,  and  thought  but  little 
of  his  wife's  sagacity  in  uniting  herself  to  a  congregation  of  believers,  felt 
his  own  mind  arrested  by  the  same  truths,  and  Anally  also  embraced 
them,  and  was  propounded  for  admission,  and  afterwards  kept  on  trial 
before  the  session.  It  was  about  this  time,  or  soon  after  he  had  been 
received  as  an  a^jplicant  for  membership,  that  the  writer  visited  his 
lodge,  and  entered  into  a  full  examination  of  his  sentiments  and  opinions, 
contrasting  them  freely  with  what  they  had  formerly  been.  We  requested 
him  to  narrate  to  us  the  facts  of  his  conversion  to  the  principles  of  Chris- 
tianity, indicating  the  progress  of  truth  on  his  mind,  which  he  did  insub- 
stance,through  an  interpreter,as  follows : 

•'  In  the  early  pari  of  my  life  I  lived  very  wickedly,  following  the 
Meta,  the  Jeesukan,  and  the  Wabeno,  the  three  great  superstitious  ob- 
servances of  my  people.  I  did  not  know  that  these  societies  were  made 
up  of  errors  until  my  wife,  whose  heart  had  been  turned  by  the  mission- 
aries, informed  me  of  it.  I  had  no  pleasure  in  listening  to  her  on  this 
subject,  and  often  turned  away,  declaring  that  I  was  well  satisfied  with 
the  religion  of  my  forefathers.  She  took  every  occasion  of  talking  to 
me  on  the  subject.  She  told  me  that  the  Indian  societies  were  bad,  and 
that  all  who  adhered  to  them  were  no  better  than  open  servants  of  the 
Evil  Spirit.  She  had,  in  particular, /owr  long  talks  with  me  on  the  sub- 
ject, and  explained  to  me  who  God  was,  and  what  sin  was,  as  it  is  writ- 
ten in  God's  book.  I  believed  before,  that  there  was  One  Great  Spirit 
who  was  the  Master  of  life,  who  had  made  men  and  beasts.  But  she 
explained  to  me  the  true  character  of  this  Great  Spirit,  the  sinfulness  of 
the  heart,  and  the  necessity  of  having  it  changed  from  evil  to  good  by 
praying  through  Jesus  Christ.  By  degrees  I  came  to  understand  it. 
She  told  me  that  the  Ghost  of  God  or  Holy  Spirit  only  could  make  the 
heart  better,  and  that  the  souls  of  all  who  died,  without  having  felt  this 
power,  would  be  burned  in  the  firfs.  The  missionaries  had  directed  her 
to  speak  to  me  and  put  words  in  her  mouth  ;  and  she  said  so  much  that, 


m 

w 

-i 

'  J 

,| 

-Si 

m 

:l 

Hi 

208 


OP    THE    ALOONQUINS. 


i 


r 


r 


at  length,  I  did  not  feel  satisfied  with  my  old  way  of  life.     Amongst  other 
things  she  spoke  against  drinking,  which  I  was  very  fond  of. 

"  1  did  not  relish  these  conversations,  but  I  could  not  forget  them 
When  I  reilected  upon  them,  my  heart  was  not  as  fixed  as  it  used  to  be. 
I  began  to  see  that  the  Indian  Societies  were  bad,  for  1  knew  from  my 
own  experience,  that  it  was  not  a  good  Spirit  that  I  had  relied  upon,  j 
determined  that  I  would  not  undertake  iojacsukil  or  to  look  into  futurity 
any  longer  for  the  Indians,  nor  practice  the  Mela's  art.  After  a  while  I 
began  to  see  more  fully  that  the  Indian  ceremonies  were  all  bad,  and  I  de- 
termined to  quit  them  altogether,  and  give  heed  to  what  was  declared  In 
God's  book. 

"  The  first  time  that  I  felt  I  was  to  be  condemned  as  a  sinner,  and  that  I 
was  in  danger  of  being  punished  for  sin  by  God,  is  clearly  in  my  mind. 
I  was  then  on  the  Island  of  Bois  Blanc,  making  sugar  with  my  wife.  I 
was  in  a  conflict  of  mind,  and  hardly  knew  what  I  was  about.  I  walked 
nround  the  kettles,  and  did  not  know  what  I  walked  for.  I  felt  some- 
times like  a  person  wishing  to  cry,  but  1  thought  it  would  be  unman- 
ly to  cry.  For  the  space  of  two  weeks,  I  felt  in  this  alarmed  and 
unhappy  mood.  It  seemed  to  me  sometimes  as  if  I  must  die.  My 
heart  and  my  bonos  felt  as  if  they  would  burst  and  fall  asunder.  My 
wife  asked  me  if  I  was  &'clc,  and  said  I  looked  pale.  I  was  in  an  agony 
of  body  and  mind,  especially  during  o/ifi  week.  It  seemed,  during  this 
time,  as  if  an  evil  spirit  haunted  me.  When  I  went  out  to  gather  sap, 
I  felt  conscious  that  this  spirit  went  with  me  and  dogged  me.  It  ap- 
peared to  animate  my  own  shadow. 

"  My  strength  was  failing  under  this  conflict.  One  night,  after  I  had 
been  busy  all  day,  my  mind  was  in  great  distress.  This  shadowy  influ- 
ence seemed  to  me  to  persuade  me  to  go  to  sleep.  I  waL  tired,  and  I 
wished  rest,  but  I  could  not  sleep.  I  began  to  pray.  I  knelt  down  and 
prayed  to  God.  I  continued  to  pray  at  intervals  through  the  night ;  I 
asked  to  know  the  truth.  I  then  laid  down  and  went  to  sleep.  This 
sleep  brought  me  rest  and  peace.  In  the  morning  my  wife  awoke  me, 
telling  me  it  was  late.  When  I  awoke  I  felt  placid  and  easy  in  mind. 
My  distress  had  left  me.  I  asked  my  wife  what  day  it  was.  She  told 
me  it  was  the  Sabbath  (in  the  Indian,  prayer-day).  I  replied,  '  how  I 
wish  I  could  go  to  the  church  at  the  mission  !  Formerly  I  used  to  avoid 
it,  and  shunned  those  who  wished  to  speak  to  me  of  praying  to  God,  but 
now  my  heart  longs  to  go  there.'      This  feeling  did  not  leave  me. 

"After  three  days  1  went  to  the  mission.  The  gladness  of  my  heart 
continued  the  same  as  I  had  felt  it  the  first  morning  at  the  camp.  My 
first  feeling  when  I  landed,  was  pity  for  my  drunken  brethren,  and  I 
prayed  that  they  might  also  be  brought  to  find  the  true  God.  I  spoke 
to  the  missionary,  who  at  subsequent  interviews  explained  to  me  the 
truth,  thn  rite  of  baptism,  and  other  principles.     He  wished,  however,  to 


MYTHOLOGY,   SUPERSTITIONS,   AND   RCLTGION 


209 


try  mp.  by  my  life,  and  I  wished  it  also.      It  was  the  following  autumn, 
Ihut  I  was  n.'ceived  into  the  church." 

We  now  turned  liis  mind  to  the  subject  of  intemperance  in  drinking, 
understanding  that  it  had  been  his  former  habit.  He  replied  that  he 
hud  been  one  of  the  greatest  drunkards.  He  had  not  been  satisfied  with 
a  ten  days'  drink.  He  would  go  and  drink  as  long  as  he  could  get  it. 
He  suid,  that  during  the  night  in  which  he  first  prayed,  it  was  one  of  the 
fiist  subjects  of  his  prayers,  that  God  would  remove  this  desire  with  his 
other  evil  desires.  He  added,  "  God  did  so."  When  he  arose  that 
morning  the  desire  had  left  him.  The  evil  spirit  then  tempted  him  by 
siiggestinsf  to  his  mind — "  Should  some  one  now  enter  and  offer  you 
liquor,  would  you  not  taste  it .'"  He  averred  he  could,  at  that  moment, 
firmly  answer  No  !  It  was  now  seven  years  since  he  had  tasted  a  drop 
of  strong  drink.  He  remarked  that  when  he  used  first  to  visit  the 
Iiouses  of  Christians,  who  gladly  opened  their  doors  to  him,  they  were  in 
the  habit  of  asking  him  to  drink  a  glass  of  cider  or  wine,  which  he  did. 
But  this  practice  had  nearly  ruined  him.  On  one  occasion  he  felt  the 
cii'ects  of  what  he  had  thus  been  prevailed  on  to  drink.  The  danger  he 
felt  himself  to  be  in  was  such,  that  he  was  alarmed  and  gave  up  this  prac- 
tice also. 

He  detailed  some  providential  trials  which  he  had  been  recently'  ex- 
posed to.  He  had  observed,  he  said,  that  those  of  his  people  who  had 
professed  piety  and  had  subsequently  fallen  off,  had  nevertheless  pros- 
pered in  worldly  things,  while  he  had  found  it  very  hard  to  live.  He 
was  often  in  a  state  of  want,  and  his  lodge  w.ns  so  poor  and  bad,  that  it 
would  not  keep  out  the  rain.  Both  he  and  his  wife  were  feeble,  and 
their  clothes  were  worn  out.  They  had  now  but  a  single  blanket  be- 
tween them.  But  when  these  trials  came  up  in  his  mind,  he  immedi- 
ately resorted  to  God,  who  satisfied  him. 

Another  trait  in  the  character  of  his  piety,  may  here  be  mentioned. 
The  autumn  succeeding  his  conversion,  he  went  over  to  the  spot  on  the 
isliind  where  he  had  planted  potatoes.  The  Indian  method  is,  not  to 
visit  their  small  plantations  from  the  time  that  their  corn  or  potatoes  are 
hilled.  He  was  pleased  to  find  that  tiie  crop  in  this  instance  promised 
to  yield  abundantly,  and  his  wife  immediately  commenced  the  process  of 
raising  them.  "  Stop  !"  ex'claimed  the  grateful  old  man, "  dare  you  dig 
these  potatoes  until  we  have  thanked  the  Lord  for  them  f"  They  then 
both  knelt  in  prayer,  and  afterwards  gathered  the  crop. 

This  individual  appeared  to  form  a  tangible  point  in  the  intellectual 
chain  between  Paganism  and  Christianity,  which  it  is  felt  important  to 
examine.  We  felt  desirous  of  drawing  from  him  such  particulars  respect- 
ing his  former  practice  in  necromancy  and  the  prophetic  art,  as  might  lead 
to  correct  philosophical  conclusions.  He  had  been  the  great  juggler  of 
his  tribe.      He  was  now  accepted  as  a  Christian.     What  were  his  own 

14 


'ffl 


(I 


210 


OP    THE     ALOONQUINS. 


i 


conceptions  of  the  power  and  arts  he  liad  practised  ?  How  did  theie 
things  appear  to  his  mind,  after  a  lupse  of  several  years,  during  which 
his  o]>inions  and  feelings  had  undergone  changes,  in  many  respects  so 
striking  ?  We  found  not  the  slightest  avoiding  of  this  topic  on  his  part. 
He  attributed  all  his  ability  in  deceptive  arts  to  the  agency  of  the  Evil 
^Spirit ;  and  he  spoke  of  it  with  the  same  settled  tone  that  he  had  manifest- 
ed in  reciting  other  points  in  his  personal  experience.  He  believed  that  he 
had  followed  a  spirit  whose  object  it  was  to  deceive  the  Indians  and 
make  them  miserable.  He  believed  that  this  spirit  had  left  him  and 
that  he  was  now  following,  in  the  affections  of  his  heart,  the  spirit  of 
Truth. 

Numerous  symbols  of  the  classes  of  the  animate  creation  are  relied 
on  by  the  Indian  metays  and  wahtnos.,  to  exhibit  their  affected  power  of 
working  miracles  and  to  scrutinize  the  scenes  of  futurity.  The  objects 
which  this  man  had  appealed  to  as  personal  spirits  in  the  arcanum  of  his 
lodge,  were  the  tortoise,  the  swan,  the  woodpecker  and  the  crow.  He 
had  dreamed  of  these  at  his  initial  fast  in  his  youth,  during  the  period 
set  apart  for  this  purpose,  and  he  believed  that  a  satanic  influence  was 
exerted,  by  presenting  to  his  mind  one  or  more  of  these  solemnly  appro- 
priated objects  at  the  moment  of  his  invoking  them.  This  is  the  theory 
drawn  from  his  replies.  We  solicited  him  to  detail  the  modus operaiuli, 
after  entering  the  juggler's  lodge.  This  lodge  resembles  an  acute  pyra- 
mid with  the  apex  open.  It  is  formed  of  poles,  covered  with  tight- 
drawn  skins.  His  replies  were  perfectly  ingenuous,  evincing  nothing  of 
the  natural  taciturnity  and  shyness  of  the  Indian  mind.  The  great  ob- 
ject with  the  operator  is  to  agitate  this  lodge,  and  cause  it  to  move  and 
shake  without  uprooting  it  from  its  basis,  in  such  a  manner  as  to  induce 
the  .spectators  to  believe  that  the  power  of  action  is  superhuman.  Af- 
ter this  manifestation  of  spiritual  presence^  the  priest  within  is  prepared 
to  give  oracular  responses.  The  only  articles  within  were  a  drum  and 
rattle.  In  reply  to  our  inquiry  as  to  the  mode  of  procedure,  he  stated 
that  his  first  essay,  after  entering  the  lodge,  was  to  strike  the  drum  and 
commence  his  incantations.  At  this  time  his  personal  manitos  assumed 
their  agency,  and  received,  it  is  to  be  inferred,  a  satantc  energy.  Not 
that  he  affects  that  there  was  any  visible  form  assumed.  But  he  felt 
their  spirit-like  presence.  He  represents  the  agitation  of  the  lodge  to 
be  due  to  currents  of  air,  having  the  irregular  and  gyratory  power  of  a 
whirlwind.  He  does  not  pretend  that  his  responses  were  guided  by 
truth,  but  on  the  contrary  affirms  that  they  were  given  under  the  influ* 
ence  of  the  evil  spirit. 

We  interrogated  him  as  to  the  use  of  physical  and  mechanical  means 
in  effecting  cures,  in  the  capacity  of  a  meta,  or  a  medicine  man.  He 
referred  to  various  medicines,  some  of  which  he  thinks  were  antibilious 
or  otherwise  sanatory.      He  used  two  bones  in  the  exhibition  of  his 


MYTHOLOOV,  SUPERSTITIONS,   AND    RELIGION 


SIl 


physical  skill,  one  of  which  was  while  and  the  other  green.  His  area* 
nutn  also  embraced  two  small  stone  images.  He  affected  to  look  into 
and  through  the  flesh,  and  to  draw  from  the  body  fluids,  as  bile  and  blood 
He  applied  his  mouth  in  suction.  He  characterized  both  the  meta  or 
medicine  dunces  and  the  wabeno  dances  by  a  term  which  may  be  trans> 
lated  deviltry.  Yet  he  discriminated  between  these  two  popular  instU 
tulions  by  adding  that  the  meta  included  the  use  of  medicines,  good  and 
bad.  The  toabeno,  on  the  contrary,  consisted  wholly  in  a  wild  exhibi- 
tion of  mere  braggadocio  and  trick.  It  is  not,  according  to  him,  an  an- 
cient institution.  It  originated,  he  said,  with  a  Pottawattomie,  who  was 
sick  and  lunatic  a  month  When  this  man  recovered  he  pretended  that 
he  had  ascended  to  heaven,  and  had  brought  thence  divine  arts,  to  aid  his 
countrymen. 

With  respect  to  the  opinion  steadfastly  maintained  by  this  venerablef 
subject  of  Indian  reformation,  that  his  deceptive  arts  were  rendered  effec-\ 
tual  in  the  way  he  designed,  by  satanic  agency,  we  leave  the  reader  to  \ 
form  his  own  conclusions.  In  his  mode  of  stating  the  facts,  we  concede  t 
much  to  him,  on  the  score  of  long  established  mental  habits,  and  the 
peculiarities  arising  from  a  mythology,  exceeding  even  that  of  ancient 
Greece,  for  the  number,  variety  and  ubiquity  of  its  objects.  But  we  per- 
ceive nothing,  on  Christian  theories,  heterodox  in  the  general  position. 
When  the  truth  of  the  gospel  comes  to  be  grafted  into  the  benighted 
heart  of  a  pagan,  such  as  Chusco  was,  it  throws  a  fearful  light  on  the 
objects  which  have  been  cherished  there.  The  whole  system  of  the 
mythological  agency  of  the  gods  and  spirits  of  the  heathen  world  and  its 
clumsy  machinery  is  shown  to  be  a  sheer  system  of  demonology,  refera- 
ble, in  its  operative  effects  on  the  minds  of  individuals,  to  the  "  Prince  i 
of  the  power  of  the  air."  As  such  the  Bible  depicts  it.  We  have  not  i 
been  in  the  habit  of  conceding  the  existence  of  demoniacal  possessions,  jniVit  vU'W' 
in  the  present  era  of  Christianity,  and  have  turned  over  some  scores  of  \  ^^S  ,iJl, 
chapters  and  verses  *o  satisfy  our  minds  of  the  abrogation  of  these  things,  l'^  •  "'  ' 
But  we  have  found  no  proofs  of  such  a  withdrawal  of  evil  agency  short  J 
of  the  very  point  where  our  subject  places  it — that  is,  the  dawning  of  • 
the  light  of  Christianity  in  the  heart.  We  have,  on  the  contrary,  found  in  i 
the  passages  referred  to,  the  declaration  of  the  full  and  free  existence  of  i 
such  an  agency  in  the  general  import,  and  apprehend  that  it  cannot  be  j 
plucked  out  of  the  sacred  writings. 

The  language  of  such  an  agency  appears  to  be  fully  developed  among 
the  northern  tribes.  Spirit-ridden  they  certainly  are  ;  and  the  mental 
slavery  in  which  they  live,  under  the  fear  of  an  invisible  agency  of  evil 
spirits,  is,  we  apprehend,  greater  even  than  the  bondage  of  the  body. 
The  whole  mind  is  bowed  down  under  these  intellectual  fetters  which 
circumscribe  its  volitions,  and  bind  it  as  effectually  as  with  the  hooks  of 
steel  which  pierce  a  whirling  Hindoo's  flesh.     Whatever  is  wonderful, 


?«- 


rc'-' 


ic 


I'i 


212 


OF    TUB     ALOONQUINS. 


or  past  comprehension  to  their  minds,  is  referred  to  the  agency  of  a  spinl 
This  is  tii«  ready  solution  of  every  mystery  in  nature,  and  of  every  ro 
finernent  of  meciianical  power  in  art.  A  watch  is,  in  the  intricacy  of  its 
machinery,  a  spirit.  A  piece  of  blue  cloth — cast  and  blistered  steel — a 
compass,  a  jewel,  an  insect,  &c.,  are,  respectively,  a  spirit.  Thunder 
consists,  in  their  transcendental  astronomy,  of  so  many  distinct  spirits. 
The  aurora  borealis  is  a  body  of  dancing  spirits,  or  rather  ghosts  of  the 
departed. 

Such  were  the  ideas  and  experiences  of  Chusco,  after  his  union  with 
the  church ;  and  with  these  views  he  lived  and  died,  having  given 
evidence,  as  was  thouglit,  of  the  reception  of  the  Saviour,  through 
faith. 

To  give  some  idea  of  the  Indian  mythology  as  above  denoted,  it  is 
necessary  to  conceive  every  department  of  the  universe  to  be  filled  with 
invisible  spirits.  These  spirits  hold  in  their  belief  nearly  the  same  rela« 
tion  to  matter  that  the  soul  does  to  the  body  :  they  pervade  it.  They 
believe  not  only  that  every  man,  but  also  that  evsnj  animal,  has  a  soul ; 
and  as  might  be  expected  under  this  belief,  they  make  no  distinction 
between  instinct  and  reason.  Every  animal  is  supposed  to  be  endowed 
with  a  reasoning  faculty.  The  movements  of  birds  and  other  animals 
are  deemed  to  be  the  result,  not  of  mere  instinctive  animal  powers  im- 
planted and  limited  by  the  creation,  without  inherent  power  to  exceed  or 
enlarge  them,  but  of  a  process  of  ratiocination.  They  go  a  stop  farther, 
and  believe  that  animals,  particularly  birds,  can  look  into,  and  are  fami- 
liar with  tlie  vast  operations  of  the  world  above.  Hence  the  great  re- 
spect they  pay  to  birds  as  agents  of  omen,  and  also  to  some  animals, 
whose  souls  they  expect  to  encounter  in  another  life.  Nay,  it  is  the 
settled  belief  among  the  northern  Algonquins,  that  animals  will  fare  bet- 
ter in  another  world,  in  the  precise  ratio  that  their  lives  and  enjoyments 
bave  been  curtailed  in  this  life. 

Dreams  are  considered  by  them  as  a  means  of  direct  communication 
with  the  spiritual  world  ;  and  hence  the  great  influence  which  dreams 
exert  over  the  Indian  mind  and  conduct.  They  are  generally  regarded 
as  friendly  warnings  of  their  personal  manitos.  No  labor  or  enterprise 
is  undertaken  against  their  indications.  A  whole  army  is  turned  back 
if  the  dreams  of  the  olliciating  priest  are  unfavorable.  A  family  lodge 
has  been  known  to  be  deserted  by  all  its  inmates  at  midnight, leaving  the 
fixtures  behind,  because  one  of  the  fainily  had  dreamt  of  ai  attack,  and 
been  frightened  with  the  impression  of  Llood  and  tomahawks.  To  give 
more  solemnity  to  his  office  the  priest  or  leading  mcta  exhibits  a  sack 
containing  the  carved  or  stuflTed  images  of  aniinals,  with  medicines  and 
bones  constituting  the  sacn-d  charms.  These  are  never  exhibited  to  the 
common  gazi',  but,  on  a  march,  the  sack  is  hung  up  in  plain  view.  To 
profane  the  medicine  sack  would  be  equivalent  to  viulatin<r  the  atlar. 


MYTHOLOGY,   SUPERSTITIONS,   ANt         LIOION 


111 


inlcation 
dreams 
Iregarded 
[nterpiise 
led  back 
lily  lodge 
iving  the 
^ack,  and 
To  give 
Its  a  sack 
lines  and 
Ld  to  the 
lew.    To 
Lhe  atlar. 


Droams  are  carefully  sought  by  every  Indian,  Mhalever  be  their  rank, 
at  certain  ])eriotIs  of  youth,  with  fasting.  These  Hisls  are  sometimes 
ccntinucil  a  gri'at  number  of  days,  until  the  devotee  becomes  pale  and 
emaiii.ited.  Tha  animals  that  appear  propitiously  to  the  mind  during 
th'se  dreams,  are  fixed  on  and  selected  as  personal  manitos,  and  are 
over  af:er  viewed  as  guardian*!.  Tiiis  period  of  fosting  and  dream- 
ing is  deeini-d  as  essential  by  them  as  any  religious  rite  whatever  em- 
ployed by  Christians.  The  initial  fast  of  a  young  man  or  girl  holds  the 
relative  importance  of  baptism,  with  this  peculiarity,  that  it  is  a  free- 
will, or  self-dedicatory  rite. 

The  naming  of  children  has  an  intimate  connection  with  the  system  of 
mythological  agency.  NamL's  are  usually  bestowed  by  some  aged  per- 
son, most  commotily  under  the  supposed  guidance  of  a  particular  spirit. 
Tbey  are  often  derived  from  the  mystic  scenes  presented  in  a  dream,  and 
refer  to  aerial  phenomena.  Yellow  Thunder,  Bright  Sky,  Big  Cloud,  Spirit 
Sky,  Spot  in  the  Sky,  are  common  names  for  males.  Females  are  more 
commonly  named  from  the  vernal  or  autumnal  landscape,  as  Woman  of 
the  Valley,  Woman  of  the  Rock,  &c.  Females  are  not  excluded  from  par- 
ticipation in  the  prophetical  office  or  jugglership.  Instances  of  their  hav- 
ing assumed  this  function  are  known  to  have  occurred,  although  it  is 
commonly  confined  to  males.  In  every  other  department  of  life  they 
are  apparently  regarded  as  inferior  or  inclusive  beings.  Names  bestowed 
with  ceremony  in  childhood  are  deemed  sacred,  and  are  seldom  pro- 
nounced, out  of  respect,  it  would  seem,  to  the  spirit  under  whose  favor 
they  arc  supposed  to  have  been  selected.  Children  are  usually  called 
in  the  family  by  some  name  which  can  be  familiarly  used.  A  male  child 
is  frequently  called  by  the  mother,  a  bird,  or  young  one,  or  old  man,  as 
terms  of  endearment,  or  bad  boy,  evil-doer,  &c.,  in  the  way  of  light  re- 
proach ;  and  these  names  often  adhere  to  the  individual  through  life. 
Parents  avoid  the  true  name  often  by  saying  my  son,  my  younger,  or 
my  elder  son,  or  my  younger  or  my  elder  daughter,  for  which  the  language 
has  separate  words.  This  subject  of  a  reluctance  to  tell  their  names  is 
very  curious  and  deserving  of  investigation. 

The  Indian  "  art  and  mystery"  of  hunting  is  a  tissue  of  necromantic 
or  myllioiogical  relirinces.  The  personal  spirits  of  the  hunter  are  invok- 
ed to  give  success  in  the  chace.  Images  of  the  animals  sought  for  are 
sometimes  carved  in  wood,  or  drawn  by  the  metas  on  tabular  pieces  of 
wood  By  applying  their  mystic  medicines  to  these,  the  animals  are 
supposed  to  be  drawn  into  the  hunter's  path  ;  and  when  animals  have 
been  killed,  the  Indian  feels,  that  although  they  are  an  authorized  and 
lawful  prey,  yet  there  is  something  like  accountability  to  the  animal's 
stippo/nti'n.al  8  )'iL  An  Indian  has  been  known  to  ask  the  pardon  of  an 
animal,  which  he  had  just  killed.  Drumming,  shaking  the  rattle,  and 
dancing  and  singing,  are  the  common  accompaniments  of  all  these  super- 


^7- 


S14 


OP    TUG    ALtiONQUINS. 


■titious  (ibservances,  and  are  not  peculiar  to  one  class  alone.  In  the 
wabcno  dance,  witicli  i.s  esteemed  by  the  Indians  as  the  most  hititudina- 
rian  co-fralernity,  love  songs  are  introduced.  They  are  never  heard  in 
the  medicine  dances.  They  would  subject  one  to  utter  contempt  in  the 
war  dance. 

The  system  of  manito  worship  has  another  peculiarity,  which  is  illus- 
trativi"  of  Indian  character.  During  the  lasts  and  ceremonial  dunces  by 
which  a  warrior  prepares  himsidf  to  come  up  to  the  duties  of  war,  every- 
thing that  .savors  of  effemifiacy  is  jiut  aside.  The  spirits  which  preside 
over  bravery  and  wur  are  alone  relied  on,  and  these  are  supposed  to  be 
offended  by  the  votary's  paying  attention  to  objects  less  stern  and  manly 
than  themselves.  Venus  and  Mars  cannot  be  worshipped  at  the  same 
lime.  It  would  be  considered  a  complete  desecration  for  a  warrior, 
while  engaged  in  war,  to  entangle  himself  by  another,  or  more  tender 
sentiment.  We  think  this  opinion  should  be  duly  e  -I'mated  in  the  gen- 
eral award  which  history  gives  to  the  chastity  of  ^"^airiors.  We  would 
record  the  fact  to  their  praise,  as  fully  as  it  has  been  done  ;  but  we  would 
subtract  something  from  the  motive,  in  view  of  his  paramount  obligations 
of  a  sacred  character,  and  also  the  fear  of  the  ridicule  of  his  co-warriors. 

In  these  leading  doctrines  of  an  oral  and  mystic  school  of  wild  philo- 
sophy may  be  perceived  the  ground-work  of  their  mythology,  and  the 
general  motive  for  selecting  familiar  spirits.  Manito,  or  as  the  Chippe- 
was  pronounce  it,  mone'do,  signifies  si-nnply  a  spirit,  and  there  is  neither 
a  good  nor  bad  meaning  attached  to  i.,  when  not  under  the  government 
of  some  adjective  or  qualifying  particle.  We  think,  however,  that  so  fax 
as  there  is  a  meaning  distinct  from  an  itivisible  existence,  the  tendency 
is  to  a  bad  meaning.  A  bad  meaning  is,  however,  distinctly  conveyed 
by  the  indection,  osh  or  ish.  The  particle  wee,  added  in  the  same  rela- 
tion, indicates  a  witch.  Like  numerous  other  nouns,  it  has  its  diminu- 
tive in  OS,  its  plural  in  wttg,  and  its  local  form  in  ing.  To  add  "  great," 
as  the  Jesuit  writers  did,  is  fur  from  deciding  the  moral  character  of  the 
spirit,  and  hence  modern  translators  prefix  gezha,  signifying  merciful. 
Yet  we  doubt  whether  the  word  God  should  not  be  carried  boldly  into 
translations  of  the  scriptures.  In  the  conference  and  prayer-room,  the 
native  teachers  use  the  inclusive  pronominal  form  of  Father,  altogether. 
Truth  breaks  slowly  on  the  mind,  sunk  in  so  profound  a  darkness  as  the 
Indians  are,  and  there  is  danger  in  retaining  the  use  of  words  like  those 
which  they  have  so  long  employed  in  a  problematical,  if  not  a  deroga- 
tive sense. 

The  love  for  mystery  and  magic  which  pervades  the  native  ceremo- 
nies, has  affected  the  forms  of  their  language.  They  have  given  it  a 
power  to  impart  life  to  dead  masses.  Vitality  in  their  forms  of  utter- 
ance is  deeply  implanted  in  all  these  dialects,  which  have  been  examin- 
ed i  they  provide,  by  the  process  of  inflection,  for  keeping  a  perpetual 


•^1  ^finiftpi"*!! 


MYTIIOLOOY,   BUPERSTITIONB,   AND    RKIJOION 


215 


leroga- 


eeremo- 
h-n  it  a 
If  utter- 
^xamin- 
trpetual 


distinction  bctwccii  thn  animate  and  inanimate  kingdomi.  But  where 
vitality  niid  spirituality  arc  ho  blended  as  we  see  them  in  their  doctrine 
of  animal  souls,  the  inevitubic  result  must  be,  either  to  exalt  the  princi- 
ple of  life,  in  nil  tlie  classes  of  nature,  into  immortality,  or  to  sink  the  lat- 
ter to  the  level  of  mere  organic  life.  Indian  word-makers  have  taken 
the  former  dilemma,  and  peopled  their  paradise  not  only  with  the  souls 
of  men,  but  with  the  souls  of  every  imaginable  kind  of  beasts.  Spir- 
'tuitlity  is  thus  clogged  with  sensual  accidents.  The  human  soul 
hnnycrs,  and  it  must  have  food  deposited  upon  the  grave.  //  sujfers 
from  cold,  and  the  body  must  be  wrapped  about  with  cloths.  It  is  in 
ditrlinisn,  and  a  light  must  be  kindled  at  the  head  of  the  grave.  It  wan- 
ders through  plains  and  across  streams,  subject  to  the  providences  of 
this  life,  in  quest  of  its  place  of  enjoyment,  and  when  it  reaches  it,  it 
finds  every  species  of  sensual  trial,  which  renders  the  place  not  indeed 
a  heaven  of  rest,  but  another  experimental  world — very  much  like  this 
Of  punishments,  we  hear  nothing ;  rewards  are  looked  for  abundantly, 
and  the  idea  that  the  Ma,ster  of  life,  or  the  merciful  Spirit,  will  be  alike 
merciful  to  all,  irrespective  of  the  acts  of  this  life,  or  the  degree  of  moral 
turpitude,  appears  to  leave  for  their  theology  a  belief  in  restorations  or 
universalism.  There  is  nothing  to  refer  them  to  a  Saviour  ;  that  idea 
was  beyond  their  conception,  and  of  course  there  was  no  occasion  for  the 
odices  of  the  Holy  Ghost.  Darker  and  more  chilling  views  to  a  theolo- 
gian, it  would  be  impossible  to  present.  Yet  it  may  be  asked,  what 
more  benign  result  could  have  been,  or  can  now  be,  anticipated  in  the 
hearts  of  an  ignorant,  uninstructed  and  wandering  people,  exposed  to 
sore  vicissitudes  in  their  lives  and  fortunes,  and  without  the  guidance  ot 
the  light  of  Revelation  .' 

Of  their  mythology  proper,  we  have  space  only  to  make  a  few  re- 
marks. Some  of  the  inythologic  existences  of  the  Indians  admit  of 
po!>lic  uses.  Manabozho  may  be  considered  as  a  sort  of  terrene  Jove, 
who  could  perform  all  things  whatever,  but  lived  some  time  on  earth, 
and  excelled  particularly  in  feats  of  strength  and  manual  dexterity.  All 
the  animals  were  subject  to  him.  He  also  survived  a  deluge,  which  the 
traditions  mention,  havin^^  climbed  a  tree  on  an  extreme  elevation  during 
the  prevalence  of  the  waters,  and  sent  down  various  animals  for  some 
earth,  out  of  which  he  re-created  the  globe.  The  four  cardinal  points 
are  so  many  demi-goils,  of  whom  the  West,  called  Kabeun,  has  priority 
of  age.  The  East,  North  and  South  are  deemed  to  be  his  sons,  by  a 
maid  who  incautiously  exposed  herself  to  the  west  wind.  Iagoo 
(lagoo)  is  the  god  of  the  marvellous,  and  many  most  extravagant  tales 
of  forest  and  domestic  adventure  are  heaped  upon  him.  Kw.\sind  is 
a  sort  of  Sam  on,  who  threw  a  huge  mass  of  rock  such  as  the  Cy- 
clops ca.st  at  Mentor.  Weesg  isthe  god  of  sleep,  who  is  represented  to 
have  numerous  small  emissaries  at  his  service,  reminding  us  ot  Pope's 


-•i^ 


UlU 


OF   Tim    ALOO.NQl'liNn. 


creation  of  gnomos.  Tlieae  tniiiulc  rtnisisarics  cliiiib  up  thn  furehcndf 
and  wielding  ii  tiny  club,  knock  individiiuls  to  .<<l('cp.  Paucuk  Ih  dt-utiii 
in  liid  symbolic  attitude.  IIu  iti  urinod  wilh  u  bow  und  urrows.  It  would 
be  easy  to  extend  this  enumeration. 

Tlic  mental  powers  of  the  Indian  constitutes  a  topic  wliich  we  do  not 
design  to  discuss.  13ut  it  inu»t  be  manifest  tliut  some  of  tbcir  peculiaii- 
ties  ari'  brougbt  out  by  tbeir  systen*  of  mytbohi^y  und  spirit-craft.  War, 
public  policy,  hunting,  abstinence,  end  >rance  and  coura^i'oiis  ailventure, 
form  tbe  leading  tojjics  of  tlieir  mental  ellbrls.  Tbe.se  are  deemed  I  bo 
appropriate  tbemes  of  men,  sages  and  warriors.  Dut  ibeir  intellectuitl 
essays  bave  also  a  domestic  tbeatrc  of  exbibitiun.  It  is  bere  tbut  tbo 
Indian  mind  unbends  itself  and  reveals  some  of  its  less  obvious  traits. 
Tbeir  public  s|)i'akers  cultivate  a  particular  brancb  of  oratory.  'I'hey 
are  careful  in  tbu  use  of  words,  und  are  regardid  as  standards  of  purity 
in  tbe  language.  Tlley  appear  to  bave  an  accurati!  ear  for  sounds,  and 
deliy;bt  in  rounding  olf  a  period,  for  wbicb  tbe  languages  allbrd  great  fa- 
cilities, by  tbeir  long  and  stately  words,  and  midlil'onn  inllexions.  A 
drift  of  tbougbt — an  elevation  of  style,  is  ob.servable  in  tbeir  puldic  speak- 
ing wbicb  is  dropt  in  private  conversation.  Voice,  attitude  and  motion, 
are  deemed  of  the  highest  conse'|uonee.  Much  of  tbe  iiu'aning  of  their 
expressions  is  varied  by  tbe  vehement,  subdued,  or  prolonged  tone  in 
which  they  are  uttered.  In  private  conversation,  on  tbe  contrary,  all  is 
altered.  There  is  an  equanimity  of  tone,  and  eu.sy  vein  of  narration 
or  dialogue,  in  which  the  power  of  mimicry  is  most  strikingly  brought 
out.  The  very  voice  and  words  of  the  suppos.d  speakers,  in  tbeir  ficti- 
tious legends,  are  assumed.  Fear,  supplication,  timidity  or  boasting, 
are  exactly  depicted,  and  tbe  deepest  int(!rest  excited.  All  is  ease  and 
freedom  from  restraint,  'i'here  is  nothing  of  the  coldness  or  severe  for- 
mality of  the  council.  The  jdpe  is  put  to  its  ordinary  use,  and  all  its 
symbolic  sanctity  is  laid  aside  with  tbe  wampum  belt  and  the  often  reiter- 
ated stale  epithets,  '*  Nosa"  and  "  Kosinan,"  i,  e.  m>j  father  and  nurfitther. 

Another  striking  trait  of  tbe  racf  is  found  in  tbeir  legends  and  talcs, 
Thoss  of  the  aboriginal  race  who  excel  in  private  conversation,  become  to 
their  tribes  oral  chroniclers,  and  are  relied  on  for  bistorical  tnditions 
as  well  as  tales.  It  is  necessary,  in  listening  (o  them,  to  distinguish 
between  the  go.ssip  and  the  historian,  the  narrator  of  real  events,  and 
of  nursery  tales.  For  they  gather  together  everything  from  the  fabu- 
lous feats  of  Manebozho  and  Mis.'^hozha,  to  tbe  hair-breadth  e.scapes 
of  a  I'ontiac,  or  a  Black  M.nvk.  These  narrators  are  generally  men  of 
a  good  memory  and  a  certain  degree  of  humor,  who  bave  experienced 
vicissitudes,  and  are  cast  into  the  vale  of  years.  In  the  rehearsal  of  tbeir 
tales,  transformations  and  transmigrations  are  a  part  of  the  machinery 
relied  on;  and  some  of  them  are  as  accurately  adapted  to  (be  purposes 
of  amusement  or  instruction,  as  if  Zoroaster  or  Ovid  himself  had  been 


MYTHOLOGY,   8LTi:usriTI().\»,    AM)     tllUJOION 


217 


ConsuUi  il  ill  tlieir  production.  Many  ohji'ct.i  in  llu!  innnlinatn  crrnlion, 
ttccoiilin;^  lo  liii'su  talcs,  wiTc  originally  im-ii  uiui  woiiicn.  And  nuine- 
ruu8  uiiiiiia!:i  lintl  olIuT  fonnti  in  their  lirnt  stiigrs  of  fxistcnco,  which 
they,  as  wi'll  uu  human  beings,  foilVilod,  hy  the  jiowor  of  ni'croinanoy  unJ 
transinignition.  The  evening  star,  it  is  fabled,  wum  formerly  a  woman. 
An  ambitious  boy  beciiine  onct  of  the  plannts.  Three  brothers,  travel- 
ling in  u  canoe,  were  translated  into  a  group  of  stars.  The  fo.v,  lynx, 
hure,  robin,  eagle  and  numerous  other  species,  retain  places  in  the  In* 
dian  Ky.stein  of  astronomy.  Ti>e  mouse  obtained  celestial  elevation  by 
creeping  up  the  rainbow,  which  Indian  story  makes  a  flos.sy  mass  of 
bright  threads,  and  by  the  power  of  gnawing  them,  he  relieved  a  cuplive 
in  the  sky.  It  is  a  coincidence,  which  wu  note,  that  vraa  major  is  called 
by  them  the  bear. 

These  legends  arc  not  confined  to  the  sky  alone.  The  earth  also  is  a 
fruitful  theatre  of  transformations.  The  wolf  was  formerly  a  boy,  who, 
being  neglected  by  liis  parents,  was  transformed  into  this  animal.  A 
shell,  lying  on  the  shore,  was  transformed  to  tlie  raccoon.  The  brains 
of  an  adulteress  were  converted  into  the  aildikumaig,  or  w  Kite  fish. 

The  power  of  transformation  was  variously  exercised.  It  most  com- 
monly existed  in  magicians,  of  whom  Abo,  Manabosh  or  Manabozha,  and 
Mi.^liosha,  retain  much  celebrity.  The  latter  possessed  a  niogic  canoo 
which  would  rush  forward  through  the  woter  on  the  utterance  of  a  charm, 
with  a  speed  that  would  outstrip  the  wind.  Hundreds  of  miles  wcro 
performed  in  as  many  minutes.  The  charm  which  he  uttered,  consisted 
of  ft  mono.syllable,  containing  one  consonant,  which  does  not  belong  to 
the  hinguage  ;  and  this  word  has  no  definable  meaning.  So  tluit  the 
language  of  magic  and  demonology  has  one  feature  in  common  in  all 
ages  and  with  every  nation. 

Man,  in  his  common  shape,  is  not  alone  the  subject  of  their  legends. 
The  intellectual  creations  of  the  Indians  admit  of  the  agency  of  giants 
and  fairies.  Anak  and  his  progeny  could  not  have  created  more  alarm 
in  the  minds  of  the  ten  faithless  spies,  than  do  the  race  of  fabulous 
Weendigos  to  the  Indian  tribes.  These  giants  are  represented  as  canni- 
bals, who  ate  up  men,  women  and  children.  Indian  fairies  are  of  two 
classe.s,  distinguished  as  the  place  of  their  revels  is  either  the  land  or 
water.  Land-fairies  are  imagined  to  choose  their  residences  about  pro- 
montories, water-falls  and  solemn  groves.  The  water,  besides  its  appro- 
priate cla.ss  of  aquatic  fairies,  is  supposed  to  be  the  residence  of  a  race  of 
beings  called  Nil)anaba  which  have  their  analogy,  except  as  to  sex,  in 
the  mermaid.  Tb'  l;.dian  word  indicates  a  male.  Ghosts  are  the  ordi- 
nary machinery  in  their  tales  of  terror  and  mystery.  There  is,  perhaps, 
a  gliinmering  of  the  idea  of  retributive  justice  in  the  belief  that  ghosta 
and  spirits  are  capable  of  existing  in  fire. 


INDIAN  ARROW  HEADS,  &c. 

By  far  the  most  numerous  relics  of  the  Red  Race,  now  found  in  those 
parts  of  our  country  from  which  it  h;is  disappeared,  are  the  small  ^tc■noJ 
with  which  they  headed  their  arrows.  Beini,'  made  of  the  most  dural  le 
substances,  they  have  generally  remained  in  the  soil,  unafiected  by  time 
and  the  changes  of  season.  They  most  abound  in  those  rich  me;iJ.owf« 
which  bolder  some  of  our  rivers,  and  in  other  spots  of  peculiar  feriilily, 
though  of  less  extent,  where  the  pasture,  or  other  attractions,  collected 
game  for  the  Red  men.  The  stones  most  commonly  used  were  quartz 
and  flint,  which  were  preferred  on  account  of  the  facility  of  shaping 
them,  the  keenness  of  the  points  and  edges,  which  they  readily  present 
under  the  blows  of  a  skilful  manufact'irer,  as  well  as  their  superior  hard- 
ness and  imperishable  nature.  Muhitudes  of  specimens  still  exist,  which 
show  the  various  forms  and  sizes  to  which  the  Red  men  reduced  stones  of 
these  kinds:  and  they  e::cite  our  admiration,  by  their  perfect  state  of  pre- 
servation, as  well  by  the  skilfulncss  of  their  manufacture. 

Other  stones,  however,  were  not  unfrequenlly  used  :  and  a  collection 
which  we  have  been  making  for  many  years,  presents  a  considerable 
variety  of  materials,  as  well  as  of  sizes,  shapes  and  colors.  Hard  sand- 
stone, trap  or  graacko,  jasper  and  chalcedony,  appear  occasionally; 
some  almost  transparent.  One  of  the  larger  size  is  made  of  steatite,  and 
smooth,  as  if  cut  or  scraped  with  a  knife,  contrary  to  the  common  method, 
of  gradually  chipping  ofT  small  fragments  of  more  brittle  stone,  by  light 
blows  often  repeated.  These  arrow  heads  were  fastened  to  the  shaft,  by 
inserting  the  butt  into  the  split  end,  and  tying  round  it  a  string  of  deer's 
sinews.  A  groove  or  depression  is  commonly  observable  in  the  stone, 
designed  to  receive  the  string.  But  it  is  sometimes  difTicult  to  imagine 
how  the  f istening  was  effected,  as  some  perfect  arrow-heads  show  no  suc'n 
depressions,  and  their  forms  are  not  well  adapted  to  such  a  purpose.  This 
peculiarity,  however,  is  most  frequently  to  be  observed  in  specimens  of 
small  size,  the  larger,  and  especially  such  as  are  commonly  supposed  to 
have  been  the  heads  of  spears,  being  usually  well  shaped  for  tying. 

I',  is  remarkable  that  some  spots  have  been  found,  where  such  relics 
were  surprizingly  numerous.  In  Hartford,  Connecticut,  about  thirty 
years  ago,  many  were  picked  up  in  a  garden,  at  the  corner  of  Front  and 
Mill  streets.  The  spot  was  indeed  on  the  bank  of  the  Liule  River,  pro- 
bably at  the  head  of  Indian  Canoe  navigation  :  but  yet  no  rational  con- 
jecture could  be  formed,  to  account  for  tlie  discovery,  except  one.  It  was  con- 
cluded that  the  place  was  an  ancient  burying  ground.  Many  bits  of  coarse 
earthen-ware  were  found,  such  as  are  common  in  many  parts  of  the  coun- 
try.    About  two  "liles  below  Middlelown,  Connecticut,  on  the  slope  of  n 

218 


INDIAN   ARROW   HEADS,   ETC. 


219 


hill  on  the  southern  side  of  the  Narrows,  we  discovered,  some  years  since, 
a  great  number  of  small  fragments  of  white  quartz,  scattered  thickly  over 
the  surfice  of  the  ground,  perhaps  for  half  an  acre.  Among  them  were 
several  arrow  heads  of  various  forms,  most  of  them  imperfect,  and  many 
pieces  of  stone,  which  at  first  sight  resembled  them,  but,  on  closer  inspec- 
tion, seemed  to  have  been  designed  for  arrow  heads,  but  spoiled  in  the 
milking.  Some  had  one  good  edge,  or  a  point  or  barb,  while  the  other  paits 
of  the  same  stones  showed  only  the  natural  form  and  fracture.  In  many  in- 
stances, it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  workman  might  well  have  been  discour- 
aged from  proceeding  any  farther,  by  a  flaw,  a  break  or  the  nature  of  the 
stone.  Our  conclusion  was,  that  the  spot  had  long  been  a  place  where 
Indian  arrow  heads  were  made,  and  that  we  saw  around  us  the  refuse 
fragments  rejected  by  the  workmen.  Other  spots  have  been  heard  of 
resembling  this. 

If  such  relics  were  found  nowhere  else  but  in  our  own  country,  they 
would  be  curious,  and  worthy  of  preservation  and  attention :  but  it  is  an 
interesting  fact,  not  however  generally  known,  that  they  exist  in  many 
other  p;irts  of  the  world.  Stone  arrow  and  spear  heads  have  been  found 
in  England  for  hundreds  of  years,  and  are  believed  to  have  been  made 
and  used  by  the  Britons,  who,  in  respect  to  civilization,  were  nearly  on  a 
level  with  our  Indians.  These  relics  are  called  by  the  common  people 
Celts,  from  the  race  whose  memory  they  recal  ;  and  particular  accounts 
of  them  are  given,  with  drawings,  in  several  antiquarian  works.  They 
bear  a  striking  resemblance  to  our  Indian  arrowheads;  and  many  of 
them  could  be  hardly,  if  at  all,  distinguished  from  those  of  America. 

African  arrows  have  been  brought  to  this  country,  in  which  the  points 
were  of  the  same  forms  and  materials,  and  fastened  in  the  same  manner, 
A-bout  twelve  years  ago  a  vessel  from  Stonington  was  attacked  by  a  party 
of  Patagoniuns,  who  threw  arrows  on  board.  One  of  these  which  we 
procured,  was  pointed  with  a  head  of  milky  quartz,  exactly  corresponding 
with  specimens  picked  up  in  New  England. 

Among  the  relics  found  in  e.Kcavating  the  low  mounds  on  the  plain  of 
Mirathon,  as  we  were  informed  by  one  of  our  countrymen,  who  was  at 
Athens  some  years  ago,  there  were  spear  heads  made  of  flint,  which,  he 
declared,  were  like  those  he  had  often  seen  ploughed  up  in  his  native 
fields.  These,  it  was  conjectured,  might  have  been  among  the  weapons 
of  some  of  the  rude  Scythians  iu  the  Persian  army,  which  met  its  defeat 
on  that  celebrated  battle  ground. 

A  negro,  from  an  obscure  group  of  islands,  just  north  of  New  Guinea, 
in  describing  the  weapons  in  use  among  his  countrymen,  drew  the  forms 
of  spear  heads,  which  he  said  were  often  made  of  stones ;  and,  when 
shown  specimens  from  our  collection,  declared  that  they  were  very  much 
like  them. 

It  has  been  thought,  that  certain  instruments  would  naturally  be  iuven 


Z-2[}  INDIAN   ARROW   HEADS,    ETC. 

ted  by  mm  in  particular  states  of  society  and  under  certain  circumstancps, 
as  the  result  of  their  wants  and  the  means  at  hand  to  supply  them.  It  ia 
not,  however,  always  easy  to  reconciii;  this  doctiine  with  fu':ts.  For  ex- 
ample, the  hiack  race  of  the  islands  north  of  Now  Holland,  (of  which  so 
little  is  ycf  known,)  appear  to  require  the  use  of  the  bow  as  much  as  any 
other  savage  people,  yet  they  arc  entirely  ignorant  of  it,  though  it  has 
Ix'en  thought  one  of  the  simple,  most  natural  and  most  indispensable 
instruments  in  such  a  condition  of  society. 

We  are  therefore  left  in  doubt,  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge, 
whether  the  manufacture  and  use  of  stone  arrow  heads  have  been  so  ex- 
tensively diffused  over  the  globe  liy  repeated  inventions,  or  by  an  inter- 
course between  portions  of  the  human  race  long  since  ceased,  or  by  both 
causes.  To  whichever  of  these  opinions  we  may  incline,  the  subject 
must  still  appear  to  us  wovthy  of  investigation,  as  the  history  of  these 
relics  must  necessarily  be  closely  connected  with  that  of  difleient  families 
and  races  of  men  in  every  continent  and  in  every  zone. 

We  would  invite  particular  attention  to  the  position  and  circumstances 
of  Indian  remains  which  may  hereafter  be  found;  and  would  e.xpre'ss  a 
wisii  that  they  might  be  recorded  and  made  known.  Our  newspapers 
ofTer  a  most  favorable  vehicle  for  the  communication  of  such  discoveries 
and  observations,  and  our  editors  generally  must  have  taste  and  judgment 
enough  to  give  room  for  them. 

it  was  remarked  in  some  of  our  publications  a  few  years  ago,  that  no 
unequivocal  remains  of  the  Red  men  had  yet  been  discovered  in  the  earth, 
below  the  most  recent  strata  of  soil,  excepting  cases  in  which  they  had 
been  buried  in  graves,  «Si,c.  Perhajis  later  observations  may  furnish  evi- 
dence of  the  longer  presence  of  that  race  on  our  continent  than  such  a 
stateirient  countenances. 

One  of  the  most  interesting  objects  of  enquiry,  with  some  antiquaries, 
is  whether  there  are  any  ancient  indications  of  Alphabetical  writing  in 
our  continent.  A  small  stone  found  in  the  Grave-Creek  Mound,  and 
others  of  a  more  doubtful  character,  are  quite  sufncient  to  awaken  interest 
and  stimulate  enquiry. 

A  few  specimens  of  rude  sculpture  and  drawing  have  been  found  in 
dilferent  pans  oi  the  U.  States  ;  and  shells,  ornaments,  «&c.,  evidently 
brought  from  great  distances.  There  may  be  others,  known  to  individu- 
als, of  which  antiquaries  are  not  aware.  After  peuising  the  foregomg 
pages.  It  will  be  easy  to  realize  that  all  such  remains  may  be  vvorthy  of 
attention.  Not  only  copies  should  be  made  and  dimensions  taken,  but 
descriptions  should  be  written,  local  information  and  traditions  collected, 
measures  taken  to  preserve  the  originals,  and  some  notice  given  which 
may  reach  persons  interested  in  such  subjects. —  JS. 


nstancrs, 
in.  It  13 
For  e.v 
ivhich  so 
li  as  any 
rli  it  has 
spcnsable 

lowlcdge, 
!en  so  ex- 
an  inter- 
r  by  both 
le  subject 
f  of  these 
it  families 

umstanccs 

express  a 

ewspnpers 

liscoverics 

juJginenJ 

that  no 
le  earth, 
t)ey  had 
rnish  evi- 
an  such  a 

tiquarics, 

riting  in 

ninJ,  and 

n  interest 

found  in 
evidently 
individu- 
breofoing 
worthy  of 
:;ikeii,  but 
collected, 
en  which 


INDIAN  MUSIC,  SONGS,  AND  POETRY. 

No.  I. 

The  North  American  tribes  have  the  elements  of  music  and  poetry. 
T lieir  war  songs  frequontly  coiit.ua  flights  of  the  finest  heroic  sentiment, 
clothed  in  poetic  imagery.  And  numbers  of  the  addresses  of  the  spealc 
crs.  both  occasional  and  public,  abound  in  eloquent  and  poetic  thought. 
*'  We  would  anticipate  eloquence,"  observes  a  modern  American  writer, 
"  from  an  Indian.  He  has  animating  remembrances — a  poetry  of  lan- 
guage, which  exacts  rich  and  apposite  metaphorical  allusions,  even  for 
ordinary  conversation — a  mind  which,  like  his  body,  has  never  been 
trammelled  and  mechanized  by  the  formalities  of  society,  and  passions 
which,  from  the  very  outward  restraint  imposed  upon  them,  burn  more 
fiercely  within."'  Yet,  it  will  be  found  that  the  records  of  our  litera- 
ture, scattered  as  they  are,  in  periodicals  and  ephemeral  publications, 
rather  than  m  works  of  professed  research,  are  meagre  and  barren,  on 
these  topics.  One  of  the  first  things  wc  hear  of  the  Indians,  after  their 
discovery,  is  their  proneness  to  singing  and  dancing.  But  however  char- 
acteristic these  traits  may  be,  and  we  think  they  are  eminently  so,  it  has 
fallen  to  the  lot  of  but  few  to  put  on  record  specimens,  which  may  be  ap- 
pealed to,  as  evidences  of  the  current  opinion,  on  these  heads.  With  fa- 
vourable opoortunitics  of  observation  among  the  tribes,  we  have  but  to 
ada  our  lestimony  to  tne  diflicuhies  of  making  collections  in  these  depart- 
ments, which  shall  not  compromit  t.he  intellectual  character  of  the  tribes, 
whose  efforts  are  always  oral,  and  very  commonly  extemporaneous. 
These  difficulties  arise  from  the  want  of  suitable  interpreters,  the  remote- 
ness of  the  points  at  which  observations  must  be  made,  the  heavy  demands 
made  upon  hours  of  leisure  or  business  by  such  inquiries,  and  the  incon- 
venience of  making  notes  and  detailed  memoranda  on  the  spot.  The 
little  that  it  is  in  our  power  to  offer,  will  therefore  be  submitted  as  contri 
billions  to  an  inquiry  which  is  quite  in  its  infancy,  and  rather  with  the 
hope  of  exciting  others  to  future  labours,  than  of  gratifying,  to  any  extent, 
an  enlightened  curiosity  on  the  subject. 

Dancing  is  both  an  amusement  and  a  religious  observance,  among  the 
American  Indians,  and  is  known  to  constitute  one  of  the  most  wide  spread 
traits  in  their  manners  and  customs.  It  is  accompanied,  in  all  cases,  with 
singing,  and,  omitting  a  few  cases,  with  the  beating  of  time  on  instru- 
ments. Tribes  the  most  diverse  in  language,  and  situated  at  the  greatest 
distances  apart,  concur  in  this.  It  is  believed  to  be  the  ordinary  mode  of 
expressing  intense  passion,  or  fueling  on  any  subject,  and  it  is  a  custom 

221 


222 


INDIAN    MUSIC,    SONGS,    AND    POETRY. 


which  has  been  persevered  in,  witli  the  least  variation,  through  nil  the 
phases  of  their  history,  and  probably  exists  among  the  remote  tribes,  pre- 
cisely nt  this  time,  as  it  did  in  the  era  of  Columbus.  It  is  observed  to  be 
the  last  thing  abandoned  by  bands  and  individuals,  in  their  progress  to 
civilization  and  Christianity.  So  true  is  this,  that  it  may  be  regarded  as 
one  of  the  best  practical  proofs  of  their  advance,  to  find  the  native  in- 
struments and  music  thrown  by,  and  the  custom  abandoned. 

Every  one  has  heard  of  the  war  dance,  the  medicine  dance,  the  wabeno 
dance,  the  dance  of  honour  (generally  called  the  begging  dance,)  and 
various  others,  each  of  which  has  its  appropriate  movements,  its  air,  and 
its  words.  There  is  no  feast,  and  no  religious  ceremony,  among  them, 
which  is  not  attended  with  dancing  and  songs.  ThanUs  are  thus  ex- 
pressed for  success  in  hunting,  for  triumphs  in  war,  and  for  ordinary 
providential  cares.  Public  opinion  is  called  to  pressing  objects  by  a 
dance,  at  which  addresses  are  made,  and  in  fact,  moral  instructions  and 
advice  are  given  to  the  young,  in  the  course  of  their  being  assembled  nt 
social  feasts  and  dances.  Dancing  is  indeed  the  common  resource,  when- 
ever the  mass  of  Indian  mind  is  to  be  acted  on.  And  it  thus  stands 
viewed  in  its  necessary  connection  with  the  songs  and  addresses,  in  the 
room  of  the  press,  the  newspaper,  and  the  periodical.  The  priests  and 
prophets  have,  more  than  any  other  class,  cultivated  their  national  songs 
and  dances,  and  may  be  regarded  as  the  skalds  and  poets  of  the  tribes. 
They  are  generally  the  composers  of  the  songs,  and  the  leaders  in  the 
dance  and  ceremonies,  and  it  is  found,  that  their  memories  are  the  best 
stored,  not  only  with  the  sacred  songs  and  chants,  but  also  with  the  tradi- 
tions, and  general  lore  of  the  tribes. 

Dancing  is  thus  interwoven  throughout  the  whole  texture  of  Indian  so- 
ciety, so  that  there  is  scarcely  an  event  important  or  trivial,  private  or 
public,  which  is  not  connected,  more  or  less  intimately,  with  this  rite. 
The  instances  where  singing  is  adopted,  without  dancing,  are  nearly  con- 
fined to  occurrences  of  a  domestic  character.  Among  these,  are  wails  for 
the  dead,  and  love  songs  of  a  simple  and  plaintive  character.  Maternal 
affection  evinces  itself,  by  singing  words,  to  a  cheerful  air,  over  the  slum- 
bers of  the  child,  which,  being  suspended  in  a  kind  of  cradle  receives,  at 
the  same  time  avibratory  motion.  Children  have  likewise  certain  chants, 
which  they  utter  in  the  evenings,  while  playing  around  the  lodge  door, 
or  at  other  seasons  of  youthful  hilarity.  Some  of  the  Indian  fables  are 
in  the  r.hape  of  duets,  and  the  songs  introduced  in  narrating  their  ficti- 
lious  tales,  are  always  sung  in  the  recital. 

Their  instruments  of  music  are  few  and  simple.  The  only  wind  in- 
strument existing  among  them  is  the  Pibbegwon,  a  kind  of  flute,  resem- 
bling in  simplicity  the  Arcadian  pipe.  It  is  commonly  made  of  two  semi- 
cylindrical  pieces  of  cedar,  united  with  fish  glue,  and  having  a  snake  skin, 
in  a  wet  state,  drawn  tightly  over  it,  to  prevent  its  cracking.     The  holes 


I 


INDIAN    MUSIC,    SONGS,    ANli   POETRY. 


223 


h  nil  the 
ibcs,  pre- 
yed to  be 
ogress  to 
5a  riled  as 
native  in- 

le  wnbeno 
ncc,)  and 
3  air,  and 
ing  tbem, 
!  thus  ex- 
ordinary 
ccts  by  a 
itions  and 
iembled  iit 
rco,  when- 
lus  stands 
ses,  in  the 
)riests  and 
anal  songs 
the  tribes. 
ers  in  the 
e  the  best 
the  tradi- 

ndian  so- 
private  or 
this  rite, 
early  con- 
wails  for 
Maternal 
the  sluni- 
oceivcs,  at 
in  chants, 
)dge  door, 
ables  are 
their  ficti- 

wind  in- 
ite,  rescm- 
two  scmi- 
nakeskin, 
The  holes 


are  eight  in  number,  and  are  perforated  by  means  of  a  bit  of  heated  iron. 
It  is  blown  like  the  flagolet,  and  has  a  similar  orifice  or  inoutn  piece. 

The  TAYWAEciu.v,  (struck-sounl-instrument,)  is  a  tamborine,  or  one- 
headed  drum,  and  is  made  by  adjusting  u  skin  to  one  end  of  the  suction 
of  a  moderate  sized  hollow  tree.  When  a  heavier  sound  is  required,  a 
tree  of  larger  circumference  is  chosen,  and  both  ends  closed  with  skins. 
The  latter  is  called  Mittigwukeek.  i.  e.  Wood-Ketlle-Drum,  and  is  appro- 
priately used  iu  religious  ceremonies,  but  is  not,  perhaps,  confined  to  this 
occasion. 

To  these  may  be  added  a  fourth  instrument,  called  the  Siieshegwon,  or 
Rattle,  which  is  constructed  in  various  ways,  according  to  the  purpose  or 
means  of  the  maker.  Sometimes  it  is  made  of  animal  bladder,  from 
which  the  name  is  derived,  sometimes  of  a  wild  gourd ;  in  others,  by  at- 
taching the  dried  hoofs  of  the  deer  to  a  stick.  This  instrument  is  em- 
ployed both  to  mark  time,  and  to  produce  variety  in  sound. 


the 


ORAL  COMPOSITION, 
ian  sonffs  are,  it  is  found  t( 


Common  as  tne  Indian  songs  are,  it  is  louna  to  De  no  ordinary 
sition  to  obtain  accurate  specimens  of  them.  Even  after  the  difficuhies 
of  the  notation  have  been  accomplished,  it  is  not  easy  to  satisfy  the  re- 
quisitions of  a  correct  taste  and  judgment,  in  their  e-thibition.  There  is 
always  a  lingering  fear  of  misapprehension,  or  misconception,  on  the  part 
of  the  interpreter — or  of  some  things  being  withheld  by  the  never  sleep- 
ing suspicion,  or  the  superstitious  fear  of  disclosure,  on  the  part  of  the 
Indian.  To  these  must  be  added,  the  idiomatic  and  imaginative  peculiari- 
ties of  this  species  of  wild  composition — so  very  different  from  every  no- 
tion of  English  versification.  In  the  first  place  there  is  no  unity  of  theme, 
or  plot,  unless  it  be  that  the  subject,  war  for  instance,  is  kept  in  the  singer's 
mind.  In  the  ne.\t  place  both  the  narration  and  the  description,  when 
introduced,  is  very  imperfect,  broken,  or  disjointed.  Prominent  ideas 
flash  out,  and  are  dropped.  These  are  often  most  striking  and  beauti- 
ful, but  we  wait  in  vain  for  any  sequence.  A  brief  allusion — a  shining 
symbol,  a  burst  of  feeling  or  passion,  a  fine  sentiment,  or  a  bold  assertion, 
come  in  as  so  many  independent  parts,  and  there  is  but  little  in  the  com- 
position to  indicate  the  leading  theme  which  is,  as  it  were,  kept  in  mental 
reserve,  by  the  singer.  Popular,  or  favourite  e.xpressions  are  often  re- 
peated, often  transposed,  and  often  e.\hibited  with  some  new  shade  of 
moaning.  The  structure  and  fle."cibility  of  the  language  is  highly  favour- 
aoie  to  this  kind  of  wild  improvisation.  But  it  is  difRcult  to  transl.ite,  and 
next  to  impossible  to  preserve  its  spirit.  Two  languages  more  unlike  in 
nil  tlii'ir  leading  characteristics,  than  the  English  and  the  Indian  were 
never  brought  into  contact.  The  one  monosyllabic,  and  nearly  without 
mflections — the  other  polysyllabic,  poiysynthetic  and  so  full  of  in/lections 


224 


INDI  4N   MUSIC,   SONGS,   AND   POETRY. 


•i-i. 


of  every  imaginative  kind,  os  to  be  coinplttoly  tiansfositivc — the  one 
fi'om  tlie  north  of  Europe,  the  other,  probably,  from  Contral  Asia,  it  would 
seem  tiiat  tliese  (iimilies  of  ilio  human  race,  had  not  wamhrtd  uiler 
npart,  in  their  location,  than  they  have  in  the  sounds  of  their  language, 
ihc  accidence  of  their  grammar  and  the  definition  of  their  words.  So 
that  to  find  equivalent  single  words  in  translation,  appears  often  as  hope- 
less as  the  quadrature  of  the  ciicle. 

The  great  store-house  of  Indian  imagery  is  the  heavens.  The  clouds^ 
the  planets,  the  sun.  and  moon,  the  piienoinena  of  lightning,  thunder,  elec- 
tricity, aerial  sounds,  electric  or  atmospheric,  and  the  endless  variety  pro- 
duced in  the  heavens  by  light  and  shade,  and  by  elemental  action, — these 
constitute  the  fruitful  themes  of  allusion  in  their  songs  and  poetic  chants. 
But  they  are  mere  allusions,  or  broken  description,  like  touches  on  the 
canvass,  without  being  united  to  produce  a  perfect  object.  The  strokes 
may  be  those  of  a  master,  and  the  colouring  exquisite  ;  but  without  the 
art  to  draw,  or  the  skill  to  connect,  it  will  still  remain  but  a  shapeless  mass 

In  war  excursions  great  attention  is  paid  to  the  flight  of  birds,  particularly 
those  of  the  carnivorous  species,  which  are  deemed  typical  of  war  and  bra- 
very, and  their  wing  and  tail  feathers  are  appropriated  as  marks  of  honor,  by 
the  successful  warrior.  When  the  minds  of  a  war  party  have  been  roused 
up  to  the  subject,  and  they  are  prepared  to  give  utterance  to  their  feelings 
by  singing  and  dancing,  they  are  naturally  led  to  appeal  to  the  agency 
of  this  class  of  birds.  Hence  the  frequent  allusions  to  them,  in  their 
songs.  The  following  stan.-^a  is  made  up  of  expressions  brought  into  con- 
nection, from  diflerent  fragments,  but  expresses  no  more  than  the  native 
sentiments : 

The  eagles  scream  on  high, 

They  whet  their  forked  beaks, 
Raise — raise  the  battle  cry, 
'Tis  fame  our  leader  seeks. 

Generally  the  expressions  are  of  an  exalted  and  poetic  character,  but 
the  remark  before  made  of  their  efforts  in  song,  being  discontinuous  and 
abrupt,  apply  with  peculiar  force  to  the  war  songs.  To  speak  of  a  bravo 
man — of  a  battle — or  the  scene  of  a  battle,  or  of  the  hovering  of  birds  of 
prey  above  it,  appears  sufficient  to  bring  up  to  the  warrior's  mind,  nil  the 
details  consequent  on  personal  bravery  or  heroic  achievement.  It  would 
naturally  be  expected,  that  they  should  delight  to  dwell  on  scenes  of  car- 
nage and  blood  :  but  however  this  may  be,  all  such  details  are  omitted  or 
suppressed  in  their  war  songs,  which  only  excite  ideas  of  noble  darinj. 

The  birds  of  the  brave  take  a  flight  round  the  sky, 

They  cross  the  enemy's  line, 
Full  happy  am  I — that  my  body  should  fall, 

Where  brare  men  love  to  die. 


INDIAN   MUSIC,   SONGS,    AND  POETRY. 


225 


Very  little  effort  in  the  collocation  and  expansion  of  some  of  their  senti- 
ments, would  impart  to  these  bold  and  unfettered  ruphsodies,  an  attractive 
form,  among  polislied  war  songs. 

The  strain  in  which  these  measures  arc  sung,  is  generally  slow  and 
grave  in  its  commencement  and  progress,  and  terminates  in  the  highest 
note.  While  the  words  admit  of  change,  and  are  marked  by  all  the  fluc- 
tuation of  e.\tempore  composition,  the  air  and  the  chorus  appear  to  be  per- 
manent, consisting  not  only  of  a  graduated  succession  of  fixed  sounds, 
but,  always  exact  in  their  enunciation,  their  quai  tity,  and  their  wild  and 
startling  musical  expression.  It  has  always  appeared  to  me  that  the  In- 
dian music  is  marked  by  a  nationality,  above  many  other  traits,  and  it  is 
a  subject  invi'ing  future  attention.  It  is  certain  that  the  Indian  ear  is  ex- 
act in  noting  musical  sounds,  and  in  marking  and  beating  time.  But  little 
observation  at  their  dances,  will  be  sufficient  to  establish  this  fact.  Nor 
is  it  less  certain,  by  attention  to  tlie  philology  of  their  language,  that  they 
are  exact  in  their  laws  of  euphony,  and  syllabical  quantity.  How  this 
remark  may  consist  with  the  use  of  unmeasured  and  fluctuating  poetry 
in  tiieir  songs,  it  may  require  studied  attention  to  answer.  It  is  to  be  ob- 
served, however,  that  these  songs  are  rather  recited,  or  chanted,  than 
sung.  Increments  of  the  chorus  are  not  unfrequently  interspersed,  in  the 
body  of  the  line,  which  would  otherwise  appear  deficient  in  quantity ;  and 
perhaps  rules  of  metre  may  be  found,  by  subsequent  research,  which  are 
not  obvious,  or  have  been  concealed  by  the  scantiness  of  the  materials,  on 
this  head,  which  have  been  examined.  To  determine  the  airs  and  cho- 
ruses and  the  character  of  the  music,  will  prove  one  of  the  greatest  facil- 
ities to  this  inquiry.  Most  of  the  graver  pieces,  which  have  been  written 
out,  are  arranged  in  metres  of  sixes,  sevens,  and  eights.  The  lighter 
chanis  are  in  threes  or  fours,  and  consist  of  iambics  and  trochees  irregu- 
larly. Those  who  have  translated  hymns  into  the  various  languages, 
have  followed  the  English  metres,  not  always  without  the  necessity  of  elis- 
ion, or  employing  constrained  or  crampt  modes  of  expression.  A  worse 
system  could  not  have  been  adopted  to  show  Indian  sentiment  The  mu- 
sic in  all  these  cases  has  been  like  fetters  to  the  free,  wild  thoughts  of  the 
native  singer.  As  a  general  criticism  upon  these  translations,  it  may  be 
remarked  that  they  -ire  often  far  from  being  literal,  and  often  omit  parts 
of  the  original.  On  the  other  hand,  by  throwing  away  adjectives,  in  a  great 
degree,  and  dropping  all  incidental  or  side  thoughts,  and  confining  the 
Indian  to  the  leading  thought  or  sentiment,  they  are,  sometimes,  rendered 
more  simple,  appropriate,  and  effective.  Finally,  whatever  cuhivated 
minds  among  the  Indians,  or  their  descendants  may  have  done,  it  is  quite 
evident  to  me,  from  the  attention  I  have  been  able  to  give  the  subject, 
that  the  native  compositions  were  without  metre.  The  natives  appear  to 
have  sung  a  sufficient  number  of  syllables  to  comply  with  the  air,  and 
effected  the  necessary  pauses,  for  sense  or  sound,  by  either  slurring  over, 

15 


226 


INDIAN   MUSIC,    SONGS,    AND   POETRY. 


and  thus  shortening,  or  by  throwing  in  floating  particles  of  the  language, 
to  eke  out  the  quantity,  taken  either  from  the  chorus,  or  from  the  general 
auxiliary  forms  of  the  vocabulary. 

Rhyme  is  permitted  by  the  similarity  of  the  sounds  from  which  the  vo- 
cabulary is  formed,  but  the  structure  of  the  language  does  not  appear  to 
admit  of  its  being  successfully  developed  in  this  manner.  Its  forms  are 
too  cumbrous  for  regularly  recurring  expressions,  subjected  at  once  to  the 
laws  of  metre  and  rhyme.  The  instances  of  rhyme  that  have  been  ob- 
served in  the  native  songs  are  few,  and  appear  to  be  the  result  of  the  for- 
tuitous positions  of  words,  rather  than  of  art.  The  following  juvenile 
see-saw  is  one  of  the  most  perfect  specimens  noticed,  being  exact  in  both 
particulars  : 

Ne  osh  im  aun 
Ne  way  be  naun. 

These  are  expressions  uttered  on  sliding  a  carved  stick  down  snow 
banks,  or  over  a  glazed  surface  of  ice,  in  the  appropriate  season  ;  and  they 
may  be  rendered  with  nearly  literal  exactness,  thus : 

My  sliding  stick 
1  send  quick — quick. 

Not  less  accurate  in  the  rhyme,  but  at  lines  of  six  and  eight  feet,  which 
might  perhaps  be  exhibited  unbroken,  is  the  following  couplet  of  a  war 
song : 

Au  pit  she  Mon  e  tOg 

Ne  mud  wa  wa  wau  we  ne  gOg. 

The  Spi'->.  on  high, 
Repeats  my  warlike  name. 

In  the  translation  of  hymns,  made  during  the  modern  period  of  mis- 
sionary effort,  there  has  been  no  jreneral  attempt  to  secure  rhyme ;  and  as 
these  translations  are  generally  due  to  educated  natives,  under  the  inspec- 
tion and  with  the  critical  aid  of  the  missionary,  they  have  evinced  a  true 
conception  of  the  genius  of  the  language,  by  the  omission  of  this  acci- 
dent. Eliot,  who  translated  the  psalms  of  David  into  the  Massachusetts 
language,  which  were  first  printed  in  1661,  appears  to  have  deemed  itim- 
pcirtant  enough  to  aim  at  its  attainment :  but  an  examination  of  the  work, 
now  before  us,  gives  but  little  encouragement  to  others  to  follow  his  ex- 
ample, at  least  while  the  languages  remain  in  their  present  rude  and  un- 
cultivated state.     The  following  is  the  XXIII  Psalm  from  this  version : 

.     Mar  teag  nukquenaabikoo 
shepse  nanaauk  God. 
Nussepsinwahik  ashkoshqot 
nuttinuk  ohtopagod 


INDIAN   MUmC,   SONGS,   AND    POETRY. 


22  J 


ed  a  true 
this  acci- 
iachusetts 
ned  it  i  ra- 
pe work, 
iv  his  ex- 
and  un- 
lersion : 


2.  Nagum  nukketeahog  kounoh 

wutomohkinuh  wonk 
Nutuss  oounuk  ut  sampoi  may 
newutch  oowesnonk. 

3.  Wutonkauhtamut  pomushaon 

muppxonk  conauhkoe 

Woskehettuonk  mo  nukqueh  tamoo 
newutch  koowetomah; 

4.  Kuppogkomunk  kutanwohon 

nish  noonenehikquog 
Koonochoo  hkah  anquabhettit 
wame  nummatwomog 

5.  Kussussequnum  nuppuhkuk 

weetepummee  nashpea 
Wonk  woi  God  nxtallamwaitcb 
pomponetupohs  hau 

6.  QOniyeuonk  monancteonk 

nutasukkonkqunash 
Tohsohke  pomantam  wekit  God 
michem  nuttain  pish  *. 

This  appears  to  have  been  rendered  from  the  version  of  the  psalms  ap- 
pended to  an  old  edition  of  King  James'  Bible  of  1611,  and  not  from  the 
versification  of  Watts.  By  comparing  it  with  this,  as  exhibited  below, 
there  will  be  found  the  same  metre,  eights  and  sixes,  the  same  syllabical 
quantity,  (if  the  notation  be  rightly  conceived,)  and  the  same  coincidence 
of  rhyme  at  the  second  and  fourth  lines  of  each  verse ;  although  it  re- 
quired an  additional  verse  to  express  the  entire  psalm.  It  could  therefore 
be  sung  to  the  ordinary  tunes  in  use  in  Eliot's  time,  and,  taken  in  con- 
nection with  his  entire  version,  including  the  Old  and  New  Testament, 
evinces  a  degree  of  patient  assiduity  on  the  part  of  that  eminent  mission- 
ary, which  is  truly  astonishing  : 

The  Lord  is  my  shepherd,  I'll  not  want ; 

2.     He  makes  me  down  to  lie 
In  pastures  green  :  he  leadeth  me  . 

the  quiet  waters  by. 

3.     My  soul  he  doth  restore  aga  < 
and  me  to  walk  doth  make 
Within  the  paths  of  righteousness 
E'en  for  his  own  name's  sake. 

Eliot  employed  the  figure  8,  set  horizontally,  to  expreai  a  peeaUamoiiad.  othwwa* 
he  used  the  English  alphabet  in  its  ordinary  poweia. 


228  .NDIAN    MUSIC,    SONOS,    AND    POETRr. 

4.  Yea,  though  I  walk  in  death's  (lark  vale, 

yet  will  1  fear  none  ill ; 
Foi  thou  art  with  me  and  thy  rod 
aid  stall' me  comfort  still. 

5.  My  nbic  thou  hast  furnished 

in  presence  of  my  foes  ; 
My  head  thou  dost  with  oil  annoint, 
and  my  cup  overflows. 

6.  Goodness  and  metcy  all  my  life 

shall  surely  follow  me  ; 
And  in  God's  house  forevermore 
my  dwelling  place  shall  be. 

The  harmony  of  nimibers  has  always  detracted  from  the  plain  sense, 
and  the  piety  of  thought,  of  the  scriptures,  which  is  the  probable  cause  of 
$0  many  failures  on  the  subject.  In  the  instance  of  this  Psalm,  it  will  be 
observed,  by  a  comparison,  that  Watts,  who  has  so  generally  succeeded, 
does  not  come  up,  in  any  respect,  to  the  full  literal  meaning  of  the  origi- 
nal, which  is  well  preserved,  with  the  requisite  harmony,  in  the  old  ver* 
aion. 

There  is  one  species  of  oral  composition  existing  among  nil  the  tribes^ 
which,  from  its  peculiarities,  deserves  to  be  separately  mentioned.  I  al- 
lude to  the  hieratic  chants,  choruses  and  incantations  of  their  professed 
prophets,  medicine  men  and  jugglers — constituting,  as  these  men  do,  ad'S- 
tinct  order  in  Indian  society,  who  are  entitled  by  their  supposed  skill,  wjv 
dom  or  sanctify,  to  exercise  the  offices  of  a  priesthood.  AfTecting  myr- 
te.y  in  the  discharge  of  their  functions,  their  songs  and  choruses  ar9 
couched  in  language  which  is  studiously  obscure,  oftentimes  cabalistic, 
and  generally  not  well  understood  by  any  but  professed  initiates. 

Nothing,  I'owcver,  in  this  department  of  my  inquiries,  has  opened  a 
more  pleasing  view  of  society,  exposed  to  the  bitter  vicissitudes  of  Indian 
life,  than  the  little  domestic  chants  of  mothers,  and  the  poetic  see-saws  of 
children,  of  which  specimens  are  furnished.  These  show  the  universal- 
ity of  the  sentiments  of  natural  nflection,  and  supply  another  proof,  were 
any  wanting,  to  demonstrate  that  it  is  only  ignorance,  indolence  and  pov- 
erty, that  sink  the  human  character,  and  create  the  leading  distinctions 
among  the  races  of  men.  Were  these  affections  cultivated,  and  children 
early  taught  the  principles  of  virtue  and  rectitude,  and  the  maxims  of  in- 
dustry, order  and  cleanliness,  there  is  no  doubt  that  the  mass  of  Indian 
society  would  be  meliorated  in  a  comparatively  short  period  ;  and  by  a 
continuance  of  efllbrts  soon  exalted  from  that  state  of  degradation,  of 
which  the  want  of  letters  and  religion  have  been  the  principal  causes. 

In  presenting  these  specimens  of  songs,  gathered  among  the  recesses 
of  the  forest,  it  is  hoped  it  will  not  be  overlooked,  by  the  reader,  that  they 


INDIAN    MUSIC,    SONQS,    AND    POETRY. 


229 


ore  submitted  an  fads  or  malerials,  in  iho  mental  condition  of  the  tribes, 
nnd  not  as  cviilencps  of  attainment  in  tlie  arts  of  metre  and  inelmiy,  which 
will  boar  to  be  admitted  or  even  criticised  by  the  side  of  the  refined  poetry 
of  civilized  nations.  And  above  nil,  not  as  efforts  to  turn  Indian  senti- 
ments to  account,  iti  original  comjiosition.  No  sucli  idea  is  entertained. 
If  materials  be  supplied  from  which  some  judgment  maybe  formed  of  the 
actual  state  of  these  songs  nnd  rude  oral  compositions,  or  improvisations, 
the  extent  of  the  object  will  have  been  attained.  But  even  here,  there  is 
less,  with  the  exception  of  a  single  department,  i.  e.  versification  and  com 
position  by  cultivated  natives,  than  it  was  hoped  to  furnish.  And  this 
little,  has  been  the  result  of  a  species  of  labour,  in  the  collection,  quite  dis- 
proportionate to  the  result.  It  is  hoped  ut  least,  that  it  may  indicate  thft 
mode  in  which  such  collections  may  be  made,  among  the  tribes,  and  be- 
come the  means  of  eliciting  materials  more  worthy  of  attention. 

This  much  seemed  necessary  to  be  said  in  introducing  the  following 
specimens,  that  there  might  not  appear,  to  the  reader,  to  be  an  undue  esti- 
mate placed  on  the  literary  value  of  these  contributions,  and  translations, 
while  the  main  object  is,  to  e.vhibit  them  in  the  series,  as  illustrations  ol 
the  mental  peculiarities  of  the  tribes.  To  dismiss  them,  however,  with  a 
bare,  frigid  word  for  word  translation,  such  as  is  required  for  the  pur- 
poses of  philological  comparison,  would  by  no  means  do  justice  to  them, 
nor  convey,  in  any  tolerable  degree,  the  actual  sentiments  in  the  minds  of 
the  Indians.  That  the  opposite  error  might  not,  at  the  same  time,  be  run 
into,  and  the  reader  be  deprived  altogether  of  this  means  of  comparison, 
a  number  of  the  pieces  are  left  with  literal  prose  translations,  word  for 
word  as  near  as  the  two  languages  will  permit.  Others  exhibit  both  a 
literal,  and  a  versified  translation. 


All  the  North  American  Indians  know  that  there  is  a  God  ;  but  their 
priests  teach  them  that  the  devil  is  a  God,  and  as  he  is  believed  to  be  very 
malignant,  it  is  the  great  object  of  their  ceremonies  and  sacrifices,  to 
appease  him. 

The  Indians  formerly  worshipped  the  Sun,  as  the  symbol  of  divins 
intelligence. 

Fire  is  an  unexplained  mystery  to  the  Indian  ;  he  regards  it  as  a  con- 
necting link  between  the  natural  and  spiritual  world.  His  traditionary 
lore  denotes  this. 

Zoroaster  says  :  "  When  you  behold  secret  fire,  without  form,  shining 
flashingly  through  the  depths  of  the  whole  world — hear  the  voice  of 
fire."  One  might  suppose  this  to  have  been  uttered  by  a  North  Ameri- 
can Indian. 


If 


; 


CHANT  TO  THE  FIRE-I  LY. 

In  the  hot  summer  evenings,  the  children  of  the  Chippewn  Algon 
quins,  along  the  sliores  of  the  upper  isikes,  unci  in  the  noitl,ern  latitudes, 
frequently  assemble  before  their  parents'  hnljjfts,  nml  amuse  thiinstlves  by 
little  chants  of  various  kinds,  with  shouts  and  wiM  danciii!,'.  Aunuted 
by  such  shouts  of  merriment  and  ganiliols,  1  walked  out  one  eveninjr,  to 
a  green  lawn  skirting  the  rdge  of  the  St.  Mary's  river,  with  the  fail  in 
full  view,  to  get  hold  of  the  meaning  of  some  of  these  chants.  The  air 
nnd  the  plain  were  literally  sparkling,-  with  the  phosijhorescctit  light  of  tho 
fire-fly.  By  dint  of  attention,  repeated  on  one  or  two  occasions,  tiic  fol- 
lowing succession  of  words  was  caught.  They  were  addressed  to  this 
iiisect : 

VVau  wau  tay  see ! 

Wau  wau  tay  see  I 

E  mow  e  shin 

Tshe  bwau  ne  baun-e  wee! 

Bo  cghaun — be  eghaun — cwee  ! 

VVa  Wau  tay  sec  I 

Wa  wau  tay  see  I 

Was  sa  koon  ain  je  gun 

Was  sa  koon  ain  jc  gun. 

LITERAL  TRANSLATION. 

Flittmg-white-firc-insect  !  waving-white-fire-bug  !  give  me  light  befori 
I  go  to  bed  I  give  me  light  before  I  go  to  sleep.  Come,  little  dancing  •• 
white-fire-bug!  Come  little  llilting-white-fire-beast  I  Light  me  with  youi 
bright whitc-flameinstrument — your  little  candle  t- 

Metre  there  was  none,  at  least,  of  a  regular  character  :  they  were  the 
wild  improvisations  of  children  in  a  merry  mood. 

•  In  giving  the  particle  wa,  tlio  various  meanings  of  "  flitting,"  "  waving,"  and 
"dancing,"  the  Indian  idiom  i.s  I'ldly  preserved.  'I'lic  (iiuil  particle  sets,  in  the  term 
wa  wa  tai  nee,  is  from  the  generic  root  aure,  meaning  a  living  cn^ature,  or  created  form, 
not  man.  By  prefixing  Ahw  to  the  root,  we  have  the  whole  clus.s  of  quadriiped.s,  and 
by  pen,  the  whole  cla.fji  of  hirds,  &.c.  The  Odjibwa  .Vlgomiuiii  term  for  a  candle,  was 
•a  koon  ain  je  gun,  is  literally  rendered  from  its  i^leinents— ••  bright— white — flamed — 
instrument."  It  is  by  the  very  concrete  character  of  tliise  compoiiiids  that  so  much 
meaning  resnll.-i  from  a  few  words,  and  so  consideralile  a  latitudt;  in  translation  la  given 
to  Indian  words  generally. 

[t  Fire-fly,  flre-fly  !  bright  little  thing, 

Light  me  to  bed,  and  my  song  I  will  sing. 

(Jive  me  your  light,  as  you  fly  o'er  my  head, 

That  I  may  merrily  go  to  my  bed.  ' 

Give  me  your  light  o'er  the  grass  a-i  you  creep, 

That  I  may  joyfully  go  to  my  sleep. 

Como  little  tire-fly — come  little  lM>ast — 

Come  !  and  I'll  make  yon  to-morrow  a  feast. 

Come  little  cuiidlc  that  flies  as  I  sing. 

Bright  little  fairy-bug— night's  little  king  ; 

Come,  and  I'll  dance  as  you  guide  me  ni^^ng, 

Come,  and  I'll  pay  you,  my  bug,  with  a  song.] 

230 


Algon 

liUlllt'3) 

Ives  by 

UllU'tCll 

•  lull  in 
Tho  nir 
lit  of  tho 
the  fol- 
I  to  this 


ETHNOLOGY. 


sriioo[,rii AIT'S  American  cyci.oivedia,  or  ETiiNoi-ocirAL 
(;A/irrri;F,R  of  tiik   indian   tuiiiiis   of    tmh   amfijican 

CONTINKNT,  NORTH  AND  SOUTH,  COMPKlSINtf  THKIll  Hl.sTORY, 
r;F.O(;RAI'IIV.  and  NOMKNCLATURE,  FROM  THF-  DISCOVERY  IN 
U'J-2,  TO  THE  PRESENT  PERIOD. 


(rht  befort 
dancing  •• 
with  youi 


r  were 


the 


.■aving."  «"•' 
in  the  term 
;rcaleil  form, 

candle,  was 

, — flamed — 

Uiat  so  much 

atioii  18  given 


30 


ADVERTISEMENT. 

A  rnosPECTUs  for  this  work  was  issued  in  1842.  While  the  title  is 
slightly  modified,  tho  design  and  plan  of  its  execution  have  not  been 
essentiiilly  changed.  The  principal  object  aimed  at,  under  tlie  fi:eiR'ral 
idea  of  the  history  and  geography  of  the  Aboriginal  Race,  is  to  furnish  a 
general  and  standard  reference-book,  or  short  encyclopajdia  of  topics  rela- 
tive to  the  entire  race,  alphabetically  arranged.  By  the  insertion  of  the 
name  of  each  family  of  tribes,  nation,  sub-tribe,  or  important  clan,  the 
occasion  will  be  presented  of  noticing  the  leading  or  characteristic  events, 
in  their  history,  numbers,  government,  religion,  languages,  arts  or  distinc- 
tive character. 

Where  the  .scene  or  era  of  their  expansion,  growth  and  decay  has 
been  so  e.vtcnsive,  embracing  us  it  does,  the  widest  bounds  and  remotest 
periods,  their  antiquities  have  also  called  for  a  passing  notice.  Nor  could 
any  thing  like  a  satisfactory  accomplishment  of  the  plan  be  efTected, 
without  succinct  notices  of  the  lives  and  achievements  of  their  principal 
chiefs,  rulers,  and  leading  personages. 

Language  is  an  important  means  of  denoting  the  intricate  thread  of 
history  in  savage  nations.  Mr.  Pritchard  considers  it  more  important  than 
physiological  structure  and  peculiarities.  It  is,  at  least,  found  often  to 
reveal  ethnological  affinities,  where  both  the  physical  type,  and  the  light 
of  tradition,  aflford  but  little  aid.  The  words  and  names  of  a  people,  are 
so  many  clues  to  their  thoughts  and  intellectual  structure  ;  this  branch  of 
the  subject,  indeed,  formed  the  original  germ  of  the  present  plan,  which 
was  at  first  simply  geographical,  and  has  been  rather  expanded  and  built 
upon,  than,  if  we  may  so  say,  supplied  the  garniture  of  the  edifice.  In  a 
class  of  transpositive  languages,  which  are  very  rich  in  their  combinations, 
and  modes  of  concentrated  description,  it  must  needs  happen,  that  the  names 
of  places  would  often  recall  both  associations  and  descriptions  of  deep 

381 


232 


ETi.VOLOQy. 


!l 


:l 


interest  in  contemplating  the  fate  and  fortunes  of  this  unfortunate  race. 
Without  intruding  upon  the  reader  disquisitions  whicli  would  be  out  of 
place,  no  opportunity  has  been  omitted,  from  tlic  considcrniion  of  their 
names,  to  throw  around  the  sites  of  their  former  or  present  residence,  thi? 
species  of  interest. 

But  half  the  work  would  have  been  done,  it  is  conceived,  to  have  con- 
fined the  work  to  North  America ;  and  it  must  necessarily  have  lost,  by 
such  a  limitation,  more  than  half  its  interest.  We  are  just  beginning  in 
truth  to  comprehend  the  true  character  and  bearing  of  that  unique  type  of 
civilization  which  existed  in  Mexico,  Peru,  and  Yucatan.  The  rude  hand 
with  which  these  embryo  kingdoms  of  the  native  race  were  overturned, 
in  consequence  of  their  horrid  idolatries,  necessarily  led  to  the  destruction 
of  much  of  their  monumental,  and  so  far  as  their  picture  writing  reached, 
some  of  their  historical  materials,  of  both  of  which,  we  now  feel  the 
want.  It  is  some  relief,  to  know,  as  the;  researches  of  Mr.  Gallatin, 
which  are  now  in  progress,  demonstrate,  that  by  fir  the  greatest  amount 
of  the  ancient  Mexican  picture  writings,  as  they  are  embraced  in  the 
elaborate  work  of  Lord  Kingsborough,  relate  to  their  mythology  and 
superstitions,  and  are  of  no  historical  value  whatever.  And  if  the  portions 
destroyed  in  the  Mexican  and  Peruvian  conquests,  were  as  likrally  inter- 
spersed with  similar  evidences  of  their  wild  polytheism,  shocking  man- 
ners, and  degraded  worship,  neither  chronology  nor  history  have  so  much 
to  lament. 

The  early,  strong  and  continued  exertions  which  were  made  by  the 
conquerors  to  replace  this  system  of  gross  superstition  and  idolatry,  by 
the  Romish  ritual,  filled  Mexico  and  South  America  with  missiin* 
of  the  Catholic  Church,  which  were  generally  under  the  charge  of  zealous 
and  sometimes  of  learned  and  liberal-spirited  superintendants,  who  have 
accumulated  facts  respecting  the  character  and  former  condition  of  the 
race.  These  missions,  which  were  generally  spread  parallel  to  the  sea 
coasts  of  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific,  reaching  inland  alo.ig  the  banks  of  the 
great  rivers  and  plains,  have  confessedly  done  much  to  ameliorate  the 
manners  and  condition  of  the  native  race,  to  foster  a  spirit  of  industiy,  ami 
to  enlighten  their  minds.  Still,  it  is  scarcely  known,  that  numerous  and 
powerful  tribes,  stretching  through  wide  districts  of  the  Andes  and  the 
Cordilleras,  never  submitted  to  the  conqueror,  and  yet  exist  in  their  origi- 
nal ."ate  of  barbarism. 

In  this  department  of  inquiry,  the  geographical  and  historical  work  of 
De  Alcedo.  which,  so  far  as  the  Spanish  and  Portugmse  missions  arc 
concerned,  is  both  elaborate  and  complete  in  its  details,  has  been  taken  as 
a  basis.  No  one  can  write  of  South  America  and  its  native  tribes,  without 
reference  to  Humboldt.  Other  standard  writers  have  been  consulted,  to 
give  this  part  of  the  work  as  much  value  as  possible,  not  excepting  the 
latest  voyajes  and  travels.     The  design  has  been,  without  aiming  at  too 


ETHNOLOGY. 


233 


e  race, 
out  of 
if  iheir 
ce,  th« 

ve  con- 
lost,  by 
ning  in 
type  of 
de  hand 
rtiirned, 
slruction 
reached, 
feel  tho 
Gallatin, 
,  amount 
d  in  the 
ogy  and 
?  jioilious 
illy  iuter- 
ing  nian- 
}  so  much 

In  by  the 
.latry,  bj 

missit  ni 
)f  zealous^ 
Ivho  have 
ion  of  th« 
Ito  the  sea 
Inks  of  the 

iorale  the 
[usuy,  anil 

icvous  and 
and  the 

Ihcir  origi- 

ll  work  of 
Issions  are 
li  taken  as 

IS,  without 
liisiiUed,  to 
icpliiig  tl'C 

1,1  ng  al  too 


mucli,  to  compress  a  body  of  leading  and  characteristic  facts,  in  the  shortest 
practicable  compass,  which  should,  at  the  same  time,  present  an  ethnologi- 
cal view  of  tho  various  families  and  groups  of  the  race. 

In  each  department  of  inrpiiry,  which  admitted  of  it,  the  author  has 
availed  himself  of  such  sources  and  opportunities  of  personal  observation 
and  experience,  as  his  long  residence  in  the  Indian  tcrritorir?,  and  his 
study  of  the  Indian  history  have  aflbrdcd.  And  he  is  not  without  the  hope, 
that  his  inquiries  and  researches  on  this  head  may  be  found  to  be  such  as 
to  merit  approval. 


A. 

Ab,  often  pronounced  with  the  sound  of  we,  before  it. — a  pnrticlc  which, 
in  geographical  names,  in  the  family  of  the  Algonquin  dialects,  denotes 
light,  or  the  cast.  It  is  also  the  radi.\  of  the  verb  wab,  to  see,  as  well  as  of 
the  derivatives,  a-ab,  an  eye-ball,  and  wabishka,  a  white  substance,  &c., 
— ideas  which  either  in  their  origin  or  application,  are  closely  allied. 

Ar.ACARis,  a  settlement  of  Indians  in  the  Portuguese  possessions  of  the 
province  of  Amnzon,  These  people  derive  their  name  from  a  lake,  upon 
which  they  reside.  It  is  a  peculiarity  of  this  lake,  that  it  has  its  outlet 
into  the  river  Madiera  which,  after  flowing  out  of  the  province  turns  about 
and  again  enters  it,  forming,  in  this  involution,  the  large  and  fertile  island 
of  Topanambes.  This  tribe  is  under  the  instruction  of  the  Carmelites. 
They  rct.iin  many  of  their  early  peculiarities  of  manners  and  modes  of 
of  life.  They  subsist  by  tho  cultivation  of  maize,  and  by  taking  fish  in  tho 
waters  of  tho  Abacaris ;  or  Abacactes  in  addition  to  these  means,  they 
rely  upon  tropical  fruits.  The  latest  notices  of  them  come  down  to  1789. 
But  little  is  known  of  their  numbers,  or  present  condition. 

AbaciiI'S,  or  Apaches,  an  erratic  tribe  of  Indians,  who  infest  the  prairies 
of  western  Texas  and  New  Mexico.  They  are  supposf d  by  some,  to  con- 
fist  of  not  less  than  15,000  souls.  They  are  divided  into  petty  bands, 
known  under  various  names.  They  are  the  most  vagrant  of  all  the  wild 
hunter  tribes  of  the  general  area  denoted.  They  do  not  live  in  fixed  abodes, 
but  shift  about  in  search  of  yarnc  or  plunder,  and  are  deemed  a  pest  by 
the  Santa  Fo  traders.  They  rnise  nothing  and  manufacture  nothing. 
Those  of  them  who  are  ea.st  of  the  Kio  del  Norte,  subsist  on  the  baked 
root  of  the  mauguey,  and  a  similar  plant  called  Mezcal,  and  hence  they 
are  called  Mezcaleros. 

Another  division  of  thom,  and  by  far  tiie  greatest,  rove  west  of  that 
stream,  where  tiiey  are  c;illed  Coyoteros,  fioiii  tlicir  habit  of  eating  the 
coyote,  or  prairie  wolf  They  e.\tend  we.n  into  Caliliirnia  and  Sonora. 
They  bear  a  bad  character  wherever  they  are  known.     If  on  tho  outskirts 


234 


ETHNOLOGY. 


of  the  ranches  and  haciendas,  they  steal  caltle  and  sheep.  If  on  the  wide 
and  destitute  plains  which  they  traverse,  thoy  thieve  and  murder.  Some- 
times they  are  pursued  and  punished  ;  more  frequently,  they  escape.  The 
Mexican  authorities  keep  some  sort  of  terms  with  them  by  treaties,  which 
the  vagrants,  however,  break  and  disregard,  whenever  they  are  e.xcited  by 
hunger,  or  the  lust  of  plunder.  For  Indians  bearing  the  name,  formerly 
from  the  U.  States,  see  Apaches. 

Adaco,  one  of  the  Bahama  islands.  The  native  inhabitants  of  this,  and 
the  adjacent  grouprs  of  islands,  were,  early  after  the  discovery,  transported 
to  the  main,  to  work  in  the  mines.  In  1788  this  island,  known  to  nautical 
men  as  the  locality  of  the  Hole  in  the  Wall,  had  a  population  of  50  whites, 
and  2  0  Africans. 

AnAcoociiE,  or  Coosa,  a  stream  rising  in  Georgia.  It  flows  into 
Alabama,  and  after  uniting  with  the  Tallapoosa,  a  few  miles  below  We- 
tumpka  it  forms  the  Alabama  river.  The  word  is,  apparently,  derived 
from  Oscooche,  one  of  the  four  bands  into  which  the  Muscogees,  were 
anciently  divided. 

Abanakek,  or  Eastlanders,  a  distinct  people,  consisting  of  a  plurality 
of  tribes,  who  formerly  occupied  the  extreme  north  eastern  part  of  the 
United  States.  The  word  is  variously  written  by  early  writers.  Sec 
Abenakics,  Abernaquis,  Wabunakies. 

Abaxcay,  the  capital  of  a  province  of  the  same  name  20  leagues  from 
Cuzco,  in  Peru.  It  is  memorable  for  the  victories  gained  in  the  vicinity 
by  the  king's  troops  in  1542  and  1548  against  Gonzalo  Pizarro.  It  lies 
in  a  rich  and  spacious  valley,  which  was  inhabited  by  the  subjects  of  the 
Inca,  on  the  conquest. 

Abasoa,  or  Rabasca,  a  popular  corruption,  in  the  northwest,  of  Atha- 
basca, which  see. 

Abankp,  an  unreclaimed  nation  of  Indians,  living  in  the  plains  of  St 
Juan,  to  the  north  of  the  Orinoco,  in  New  Grenada.  They  are  of  a  docile 
character,  and  good  disposition,  lending  a  ready  ear  to  instruction,  but 
have  not  embraced  the  Catholic  religion.  They  inhabit  the  wooded 
shores  of  the  river,  and  shelter  themselves  from  the  effects  of  a  tropical  sun, 
in  the  open  plains,  by  erecting  their  habitations  in  the  small  copse-wood. 
They  've  bounded  towards  the  west,  by  the  Andaquies  and  Caberras,  and 
east  l)y  the  Salivas. 

A/iANooui,  a  large  settlement  of  the  Guarani  nation  of  Indians,  on  tht 
shores  of  the  river  Taquani,  in  Paraguay.  This  stream  and  its  innabi 
tants  were  discovered  by  A.  Numez,  in  1541. 

Abk'joociu,  SCO  Abacooche. 

AnEicAP,  an  ancient  name  for  a  tribe  of  In..ians,  in  the  present  erea  of 
the  United  States,  who  arc  placed  in  the  earlier^  ographies,  soiilh  of  the 
Alabninas  and  iresl  of  the  Cherokces.  They  dwelt  at  a  dist.nnce  from  the 
large  rivers,  yet  were  located  in  the  districts  of  the  cane,  out  of  th.)  hard 


I 


ETHNOLOGV. 


235 


he  wide 
Some- 
i.  The 
s,  which 
{cited  by 
formerly 

this,  and 
snsported 
3  nnuticai 
50  whiles, 

[lows  into 
elow  We- 
ly,  derived 
gees,  were 

i  plurality 
part  of  the 
■iters.     Sec 

a'l'ues  from 
the  vicinity 
ro.  It  lies 
ijects  of  the 

St,  of  Atha- 

)lains  of  St 

of  a  docile 

ruction,  but 

ic   wooded 

opical  sun, 

cops<?-\'.'ood. 

berras,  and 

ians,  on  tht 
its  innabi 


!scnt  rrea  of 
snulh  of  the 
lice  from  the 
of  thw  hard 


substance  of  which  they  made  a  kind  of  knife,  capable  of  answering  the 
principal  purposes  of  this  instrument.  They  were  at  enmity  with  the  Iro- 
quois. 

AnENAKiEP,  a  nation  formerly  inhabiting  a  large  part  of  the  territorial 
orea  of  the  states  of  New  Hampshire  and  Maine.  There  were  several 
tribes,  of  this  nation  the  principal  of  which  were  the  Pcnobscots,  the  Nor- 
redgewocks,  and  the  Arneriscoggins.  They  wore  at  perpetual  hostilities 
with  the  New  England  colonists.  They  had  received  missionaries,  at  an 
early  day,  from  the  French  in  Canada,  and  acted  in  close  concert  with 
the  hostile  Indians  fiom  that  quarter.  At  length  in  1724,  the  government 
of  Massachusselts  organized  an  efifective  expedition  against  them,  which 
ascended  the  Kennebec,  attacked  the  chief  town  of  the  Norredgevvocks,  and 
killed  a  large  number  of  their  bravest  warriors.  Among  the  slain,  was 
found  their  missionary  Sebastian  Rasle,  who  had  taken  up  arms  in  their 
defence.  There  was  found,  among  his  papers,  a  copious  vocabulary  of 
the  language,  which  has  recently  been  published  under  the  supervision  of 
Mr.  Pickering.  In  the  year  1754,  all  the  Abenakies,  except  the  Penob- 
scots,  removed  into  Canada.  This  nation  had  directed  their  attention,  al- 
most exclusively,  to  hunting.  At  the  mouth  of  the  Kennebec  they  absolute- 
ly planted  nothing.  Their  language,  as  observed  by  Mr.  Gallatin,  has 
strong  affinities  with  those  of  the  Etchemins,  and  of  the  Micmacs,  of  New 
Brunswick  and  Nova  Scotia ;  there  are  fewer  resemblances  in  its  vocabu- 
lary to  the  dialects  south  of  them.  This  nation  appears  to  have  been 
called  Tarrcnteens,  by  the  New  England  Indians.  Their  generic  name 
for  themselves,  if  they  had  one,  is  unknown.  The  term  Abenakie,  is  one 
manifestly  imposed  by  Algonquin  tribes  living  west  and  south  of  them. 
It  is  derived  from  wabanung,  the  east,  or  a  place  of  light,  and  akee,  land. 

AcKKAS,  a  name  applied,  so  late  as  1750,  to  a  band  of  the  Muscogees, 
living  on  the  river  Tombigbee,  within  the  present  area  of  Alabama. 

AnEu.XAQns,  a  settlement  of  the  expatriated  Abenakies  of  New  Eng- 
land, in  Lower  Canada.  They  subsist  themselves  at  this  time  in  a  great 
measure  by  agriculture,  and  manifest  a  disposition  to  improve.  From  a 
report  made  in  1839  by  the  American  Board  of  Foreign  missions  of  Bos- 
ton who  employ  a  missionary  and  teacher  among  them,  sixty  persons 
attend  Protestant  worship,  of  which  number,  24  are  church  members. 
Twenty  of  the  youth  attend  a  daily  school. 

AniGiRA.^,  an  Indian  mission  formerly  under  the  charge  of  the  order 
of  Jesuits,  in  the  governmental  department  of  Quito.  It  is  situated  on  the 
river  Curasari,  30  leagues  from  its  mouth,  and  240  from  Quito.  It  was 
founded  in  1GG5  by  father  Lorenzo  Luccro. 

Abixgas,  or  Waui.ngas,  a  name  for  a  band,  or  sub-tribe  of  the  River 
Indians,  of  the  Mohegan,  or  Mohekinder  stock,  who  formerly  inhabited 
the  present  area  of  Dutchess  county,  N.  Y.,  and  some  adjacent  parts  of  the 
eastern  shores  of  the  Hudson,  above  the  Highlands. 


:iii 


1 


236 


ETHNOLOGY. 


Adiponks,  an  unreclaimed  nation  of  Indians,  who  inhabit  the  south 
shores  of  tlio  river  Beimcjo,  in  tiie  province  of  Tucuman,  Buenos  Ayres 
This  nation  is  saiJ.  peiliaps  vaguely,  to  iiavc  formerly  numbered  lUU.OOO 
Bouls,  but  was,  at  the  last  accounts,  about  A.U.   180L),  much   reduced. 


They  present  some  peculiar  traits,  living  as  nearly  in  a  state  of  nature  as 
possible.  The  men  go  entirely  naked,  subsisting  tiiemselves  by  hunting 
and  fishing,  and  passing  much  of  their  time  in  idleness  or  war.  The  wo- 
men wear  little  oi  nameiitcd  skins  called  quei/api  Physically,  the  people 
are  well  formed,  of  a  lofty  s.jiure  and  bearing,  robust  and  good  featured. 
They  paint  their  bodies  profusely,  and  take  great  pains  to  inspire  hardi- 
hood. For  this  purpose  they  cut  and  scarify  themselves  from  childhood  ; 
they  esteem  tiger's  flesh  one  of  the  greatest  dainties,  believing  its  proper- 
ties to  infuse  strength  and  valor.  In  war  they  are  most  cruel,  sticking 
their  captives  on  the  top  of  high  poles,  where,  e.vposed  to  the  scorching 
rays  of  the  sun,  tiiey  are  left  to  die  the  most  horrid  death. 

They  have  no  knowledge  of  God,  of  laws,  or  of  policy,  yet  they  believe 
in  the  iininoitalily  of  the  soul,  and  in  a  land  of  future  bliss,  where  dancing 
and  diversions  shall  prevail.  Widows  observe  celibacy  for  a  year,  during 
which  tir.ie  they  abstain  from  fish.  The  females  occupy  themselves  in 
sewing  hides,  or  spinning  rude  fabrics,  Whentlie  men  are  intoxicated — > 
a  prevalent  vice — they  conceal  their  husbands'  knives  to  prevent  assassi- 
nations. They  rear  but  two  or  three  children,  killing  all  above  this 
number. 

AniscA,  an  extensive  mountainous  territory  of  Peru,  lying  between  the 
Yetau  and  Amoramago  rivers,  east  of  the  Andes,  noted  from  the  earliest 
times,  for  the  number  of  barbarous  nations  who  occupy  it.  It  is  a  wild 
and  picturesque  region,  abounding  in  forests,  lakes  and  streams,  and  af- 
fording facilities  for  the  chase,  and  means  of  retreat  from  civilization,  so 
congenial  to  savage  tribes.  An  attempt  to  subjugate  these  fierce  tribes 
made  by  Pedro  de  Andia  in  1538,  failed.  The  same  result  had  attended 
the  efforts  of  the  emperor  Yupanqui. 

Abitanis,  a  mountain  in  the  province  of  Lipas,  in  Peru.  In  the  Q,uet- 
chuan  tongue,  it  signifies  the  ore  of  gold,  from  a  mine  of  this  metal,  which 
is  now  nearly  abandoned. 

AuiTTiBf,  the  name  of  one  of  the  tributaries  of  Moose  River,  of  James' 
Bay,  Canada.  Also  a  small  lake  in  Canada  West,  near  the  settlement  of 
Frederick,  in  north  latitude  48°,  35'  and  west  'ongitudo  82'^  :  also,  a  lake 
north  of  lake  Ncpissing,  in  the  direction  to  Moose  Fort.  It  is  a  term,  ap- 
parently derived  from  nibee,  water,  and  wab,  light. 

Abitigap,  a  fierce  and,  warlike  nation  of  Indians,  in  the  province  of 
Tarma  in  Peru,  of  the  original  Quctche  stock.  They  are  situated  GO 
leagues  to  the  east  of  the  Andes.  They  are  barbarians,  roving  fiom  place 
to  place,  without  habits  of  industry,  and  delighting  in  war.  They  are 
numerous,  as  well  ao  warlike  ;  but  like  all  the  non-agricuhural  tribes  of 


ETHNOLOGY. 


237 


south 

Ayrcs 
OD.OOO 
educed, 
ature  as 
Imnung 
riie  \vo- 
5  people 
lealured. 
e  hardi- 
ilJhood  ; 
s  proper- 
sticking 
icoiching 

:y  believe 
e  dancing 
ar,  dining 
isclves  in 
jxicatcd — • 
;nt  assassi- 
above  this 

;t\veen  the 

.he  earliest 

It  is  a  wild 

ns,  and  af- 

ization,  so 

lerce  tribes 

id  attended 

II  the  Q,uet' 

jctal,  which 

of  James' 
Itllement  of 
),  a  lake 
la  tenn,ap- 

Irovince  of 
]sini.ited   60 
r  fi  om  place 
They  are 
111  tribes  of 


the  region,  thoyaro  often  in  want  and  wretchedness.     They  are  bounded 
on  the  south  by  their  enemies  the  Ipilcos. 

Alto,  Aiiouon  Mi('iiAHo,or  the  Great  Hare,  a  personage  rather  of  mytholo- 
gical, tiian  historical  note,  in  the  traditions  of  the  Lake  Algonquin  tribes. 
It  is  not  clear,  although  probable,  that  he  is  to  be  regarded  as  identical 
with  Manabosbo,  or  Nanabosho. 

Aiio.ii;i<;,  a  celebrated  war  and  hereditary  chief  of  the  Chippewa  nation, 
who  flourished  during  the  last  century;  more  commonly  written  Wabo- 
jeeg,  which  see. 

AniiAiiAM,  a  chief  of  the  Mohawks,  who,  after  the  fall  of  king  Hendrick, 
so  called,  at  the  battle  of  lake  Goorge,  in  1755,  between  the  English  and 
French  armies,  became  the  ruling  chief  of  that  nation.  He  was  the 
younger  brother  of  Hendrick,  and  lived  at  the  lower  Mohawk  Castle. 
He  was  of  small  stature,  but  shretvd  and  active,  and  a  fluent  speaker. 
Numbers  of  his  speeches  are  preserved,  which  he  delivered,  as  the  ruling 
chief  of  his  tribe,  in  various  councils,  during  the  stormy  era  of  1775, 
which  eventuated  in  the  American  revolution.  In  the  events  of  that  era, 
his  name  soon  disappenis  :  as  he  was  then  a  man  of  advanced  years,  he 
probably  died  at  his  village.  It  is  not  known  that  he  excelled  in  war,  and, 
at  all  events,  he  was  succeeded,  about  this  time,  in  fame  and  authority,  by 
a  new  man  in  the  chieftainship,  who  rose  in  the  person  of  Thyendancgea, 
better  known  as  Joseph  Brant.  Abraham,  or  little  Abraham,  as  he  was 
generally  called,  appears  from  his  speeches  and  policy,  to  have  thorough- 
ly adopted  the  sentiments  and  policy  of  Sir  William  Johnson,  of  whom, 
with  his  tribe  generally,  he  was  the  friend  and  admirer.  He  was,  as  his 
speeches  disclose,  pacific  in  his  views,  cautious  in  policy,  and  not  in- 
clined it  would  seem,  to  rush  headlong  into  the  great  contest,  which  was 
then  brewing,  and  into  which,  his  popular  successor.  Brant,  went  heart 
and  hand.  With  less  fame  than  his  elder  brother  Hendrick,  and  with  no 
warlike  reputation,  yet  without  imputation  upon  his  name,  in  any  way,  he 
deserves  to  be  remembered  as  a  civilian  and  chieftain,  who  bore  a  respect- 
able rank;  as  one  of  a  proud,  high  spirited,  and  important  tribe.  Little 
Abraham  was  present  at  the  last  and  final  council  of  the  Mohawks,  with 
the  American  Commissioners,  at  Albany,  in  September  1775,  and  spoke  for 
them  on  this  occasion — which  is  believed  to  have  been  the  last  peaceable 
meeting  between  the  Americans  and  the  Mohawk  tribe,  prior  to  the  war. 


i  I 


;  1 

i           : 

i     i!' 

1'  ■ 

; 

,  1 

i 

i 

[NoTB. — Accents  are  placed  over  all  words  of  North  American  origin,  when  known 
Vowels  preceding  a  consonant,  or  placed  between  two  consonants,  are  generally  short: 
following  a  consonant,  or  ending  a  syllable  or  word,  they  arc  generally  long.  Diphthongs 
are  used  with  tlieir  ordinary  power.] 

Absecon.  a  beach  of  the  sea  coast  of  New  Jersey,  sixteen  miles  south- 
west of  Little  Egg  Harbor.  The  word  is  a  derivative  from  Wabisee,  a 
Swan,  and  Ong,  a  Place. 

AnsoROKA,  a  name  for  the  Minnetaree  tribe  of  Indians  on  the  river  Mis- 
souri.    They  are  phiiologicnlly  of  the  Dacotah  family.     See  Minnetaree. 

AnucEEs,  a  mission  of  the  Sucumbias  Indians,  in  the  province  of  Quixos, 
Cluito,  which  was  founded  by  the  order  of  Jesuits.  It  is  situated  on  the 
shores  of  a  small  river,  which  enters  the  Putumago,  in  north  latitude  0° 
30'  longitude  79°  2'  west. 

Aburka,  a  town,  in  a  rich  valley  of  the  same  name,  in  New  Grenada, 
discovered  in  1540,  by  Robledo.  In  its  vicinity  are  found  many  huacas, 
or  sepulchres  of  the  Indians,  in  which  great  riches,  such  as  gold  ornaments, 
are  found  deposited.  There  are,  in  the  vicinity,  some  streams  of  saline 
water,  from  which  the  Indians  manufacture  salt. 

Abwoin.  or  Bwoi\,  a  name  of  the  Chippewas,  Ottawas,  and  other  mod- 
ern Algonquin  tribes  of  the  upper  Lakes,  for  the  Dacotah  or  Sioux  na- 
tion. It  is  rendered  plural  in  ug.  The  word  is  derived  from  abwai,  a 
stick  used  to  roast  meat,  and  is  said  to  have  been  given  to  this  tribe,  in  re- 
proach from  the  ancient  barbarities  practised  towards  their  prisoners  taken 
captive  in  war.     For  an  account  of  this  tribe,  see  Dacotah  and  Sioux. 

Abwoinac;  Ab\voi\a  :  Terms  applied  to  the  general  area  between  the 
Mississippi  and  Missouri,  lying  north  of  the  St.  Peter's,  occupied  by  Sioux 
tribes.  In  the  earlier  attempts  of  Lord  Selkirk,  to  plant  a  colony  in  parts 
of  this  region,  the  compound  term  Assinaboina,  was,  to  some  extent,  but 
unsuccessfully  employed.  The  two  former  terms  are  derivatives  from 
Abwoin,  a  Sioux,  and  akee,  earth  ;  the  latter  has  the  prefix  assin,  (ossin,) 
a  stone. 

AcAQUATo,  a  settlement  of  Indians  in  the  district  of  Tancitars,  in  Peru, 
reduced  in  1788,  to  fifteen  families,  who  cultivated  maize  and  vegetables. 

AcAMBARo,  a  settlement  of  490  families  of  Indians,  and  80  of  Mustees, 

238 


i 


ETHNOLOGY. 


239 


1  known 
ly  short: 
pltthongs 


?S  south- 
abisee,  a 

iver  Mis- 
nnetaree. 
f  Gluixos, 
ed  on  the 
ilitude  0° 

Grenada, 

ly  huacag, 
naments, 
of  saline 

Ither  mod- 
Isioiix  na- 
abwai,  a 
jibe,  in  re- 
lers  taken 
Sioux, 
jtween  the 
by  Sioux 
ly  in  parts 
;xtenl,  but 
lives  from 
|n,  (ossin,) 

I,  in  Peru, 
Vegetables, 
if  Mtisteetf 


belonging  to  llie  order  of  St.  Francis,  in  the  district  of  Zelaya,  in  the 
province  and  bisiiopric  of  Mechoacan,  seven  leagues  S.  of  its  capital. 

AcAMisTi.AHUAC,  a  Settlement  of  30  Indian  families  in  the  district  of  Tas 
CO,  attached  to  the  curacy  of  its  capital,  from  whence  it  is  two  leagues  E. 
N.  E. 

AciiAMUciiiTLAN,  a  Settlement  of  GO  families  of  Indians  in  the  district  of 
Texopilco,  and  civil  division  of  Zultepec.  They  sell  sugar  and  honey— 
the  district  al;  duces  maize  and  vegerrb'pa.  J'  is  5  leagues  N.  of  its 
head  s      .  ment. 

AcANTEPEc.  The  head  settlement  of  Tlapa,  embracing  92  Indian  fami 
lies,  including  another  small  settlement  in  its  vicinity,  all  of  whom  main- 
tain themselves  by  manufacturing  cotton  stuffs. 

AcAPETLAHUALA,  a  Settlement  of  180  Indian  families,  being  the  principal 
settlement  of  the  district  of  Escateopan,  and  civil  district  of  Zaquacpa. 

AcAKi,  a  settlement  in  a  beautiful  and  extensive  valley  of  Camana,  in 
Peru,  noted  for  a  lofty  mountain  called  Sahuacario,  on  the  skirts  of  which 
the  native  Indians  had  constructed  two  fortresses,  prior  to  their  subjuga- 
tion by  the  Spanish.  This  mountain  is  composed  of  "misshapen  stones, 
and  sand,"  and  is  reported,  at  certain  times  of  the  year  to  emit  loud 
sounds,  as  if  proceeding  from  pent  up  air,  and  it  is  thought  to  have,  in 
consequence,  attracted  the  superstitious  regard  of  the  ancient  Indian  inhab- 
itants. 

AcATEPEC.  There  are  five  Indian  settlements  of  this  name,  in  Spanish 
America. 

1.  A  settlement  comprising  8G0  Indian  families,  of  the  order  of  St. 
Francis,  in  the  district  of  Thehuacan.  Forty  of  these  families  live  on 
cultivated  estates  stretching  a  league  in  a  spacious  valley,  four  leagues  S. 
S.  W.  of  the  capital. 

2.  A  settlement  in  the  district  of  Chinantla,  in  the  civil  jurisdiction  of 
Cogamaloapan.  It  is  situated  in  a  pleasant  plain,  surrounded  by  three 
lofty  mountains.  The  number  of  its  inhabitants  is  reduced.  The  In- 
dians who  live  on  the  banks  of  a  broad  and  rapid  river,  which  intercepts 
the  great  roiid  to  the  city  of  Oxaca,  and  other  jurisdictions,  support 
themselves  by  ferrying  over  passengers  in  their  barks  and  canoes.  It 
is  10  leagues  W.  of  its  head  settlement. 

3.  A  settlement  of  1 00  Indian  fiimilies,  in  the  same  kingdom,  situated  be- 
tween two  high  ridges.  They  are  annexed  to  the  curacy  of  San  Lorenzo, 
two  leagues  off 

4.  A  settlement  of  39  Indian  families  annexed  to,  and  distant  one  league 
and  a  half  N.  of  the  curacy  of  Tlacobula.  It  is  in  a  hot  valley,  skirted  by 
a  river,  which  is  made  to  irrigate  the  gardens  and  grounds  on  its  borders. 

5  A  sculement  of  12  Indian  families  in  the  mayomleof  Xicayun  of  the 
same  kins;dom. 

AcATEPEQUE,  St.  Francisco,  De,  a  settlement  of  140  Indian  families  in 


I 


240 


ETHNOLOGY. 


)    '  ( 


tlio  mnyorate  of  St.  AnJrcs  de  Ciiolula,  situated  half  a  league  S.  of  'tS 
capital. 

AcATLAN,  six  locations  of  Indians  exi'*,  under  this  name,  in  Mexico. 

1.  A  settlement  of  8r)(  "•inilics  of  Indians  in  the  aknllia  of  this  name, 
cmbracintr  some  20  Spaniards  and  Mustcrx.  In  the  vicinity  are  some  ex- 
cellent salt  groimds.  Tiio  climate  is  of  n  mild  temperature,  and  tho 
surrounding  country  is  fertile,  abounding  in  fruits,  (lowers,  and  pulse,und 
£  well  watered.     It  is  ^j  leajTues  E.  S.  E.  of  Me.xico. 

2.  A  settlement  of  180  Indian  families  in  Xalapa  of  the  same  Idngdom, 
(now  repiihlic.)  It  occupies  a  spot  of  clayey  ground  of  a  cold  moist  tem- 
perature, in  consequence  of  which,  and  its  being  subject  to  N.  winds, 
fruits,  in  this  neighbourhood,  do  not  ripen.  Other  branches  of  cuhiva- 
tion  succeed  from  the  abundance  of  streams  of  water,  and  their  fertili- 
zing effects  on  the  soil.  This  settlement  has  the  dedicatory  title  of  S(. 
Andres. 

3.  Sa.\  Pkdro,  in  the  district  of  Malacatepec,  and  alcaldia  of  Nexapa. 
It  contains  80  Indian  families,  who  trade  in  wool,  and  the  fish  called  bohOf 
which  are  caught,  in  large  quantities,  in  a  considerable  river  of  the  dis- 
trict. 

4.  ZiTLALA.  Tt  consists  of  198  Indian  families,  and  is  a  league  and  a 
half  N.  of  its  b     '  settlement  of  this  name. 

5.  Skntkpkc,  .  settlement  15  leagues  N.  E.  of  its  capital.  The  tempo 
rature  is  cold.     It  has  42  Indian  families. 

G.  Atotomlco,  in  the  alcaldia  mayor  of  Tulanzingo.  It  contains  115 
Indian  families,  and  has  a  convent  of  the  religious  order  of  i...  Augus- 
tine.    It  is  2  leagues  N.  of  its  head  settlement. 

AcATLANZiNGo,  3  Settlement  of  G7  Indian  families  of  Xicula  of  the  nl- 
cadia  mayor  of  Nexapa,  who  employ  themselves  in  the  culture  of  cochi- 
neal plants.     It  lies  in  a  plam,  surrounded  on  all  sides  by  mountains. 

AcAXEt:,  a  nation  of  Indians  in  the  province  of  Topia.  They  are  re- 
presented to  have  been  converted  to  tiie  catholic  faith  by  the  society  of 
Jesuits  in  IC02.  They  are  docile  and  of  good  dispositions  and  abilities. 
One  of  their  ancient  customs  consisted  of  bending  the  heads  of  their  dead 
to  their  knees,  and  in  this  posture,  putting  them  in  caves,  or  under  a  rock 
and  at  the  same  time,  depositing  a  quantity  of  food  for  their  supposed 
journey  in  another  state.  They  also  exhibited  a  farther  coincidence  with 
the  customs  of  the  northern  Indians,  by  placing  a  bow  and  arrows  with 
the  body  of  the  dead  warrior,  for  his  defence.  Should  an  Indian  woman 
happen  to  die  in  child-bed,  they  put  the  surviving  infant  to  death,  as  hav- 
ing been  the  cause  of  its  mother's  decease.  This  tribe  rebelled  against  the 
Spanish  in  1G12,  under  the  influence  of  a  native  prophet,  but  they  were 
subdued  by  the  governor  of  the  province,  Don  Francisco  de  Ordinola. 

AcAXETE,  Santa  Maria  de,  the  head  settlement  of  the  district  of  Tepcaca, 
on  the  slope  of  the  ikna  o(  Tlascala.    It  consists  of  1 7G  Mexican  Indians, 


i 


ETHNOLOGY. 


241 


!  S.  of  itfl 

Mexico. 
his  name, 
3  some  ex- 
,  and  tho 
pulse,  und 

!  kingdom, 
moist  tem- 
N.  winds, 
of  cnltiva- 

ihcir  feitili- 
tiilc  of  St. 

of  Ncxnpa. 

called  bobOf 

of  the  dis- 


cacrue 


and  a 


The  tempo 

contains  115 
f  i..  Augus- 

ila  of  the  nl- 
jrc  of  cochi' 
untains. 
rhey  are  re- 
le  society  of 
and  abilities, 
of  their  dead 
under  a  rock 
leir  supposed 
icidence  with 

arrows  with 
ndian  woman 
death,  as  hav- 
ed  against  the 
3ut  they  were 

de  Ordinola. 
ct  of  Tepcaca, 
xican  Indians, 


7  Spanish  families,  and  10  Mustecs  and  Mulatoes.  In  its  vicinity  there 
is  a  reservoir  of  hewn  stone,  to  catch  the  waters  of  the  mountain,  which 
are  thence  conducted  to  Tepcaca,  three  leagues  N.  N.  W. 

AcAxucHiTLAN,  a  curacy  consisting  of  106  Indian  families  of  the 
bishopric  of  La  Peubla  de  los  Angelos.  It  is  in  the  alcaldia  of  Tulanzingo, 
lying  4  leagues  E.  of  its  capital. 

AcAYUcA,  the  capital  of  a  civil  division  of  New  Spain,  in  the  province 
of  Goazacoalco,  embracing,  in  its  population,  296  families  of  Indians,  30 
of  Spaniards,  and  70  of  mixed  bloods.  It  lies  a  little  over  lOU  leagues  S. 
E.  of  Mexico,  in  lat.  17°  53'  N. 

AcAzi.xQo,  St  Juan  de,  a  settlement  of  the  district  of  Tepcaca,  consist- 
ing of  700  families  of  Indians,  150  of  Spaniards,  104  of  Mustees,  and 
31  of  Mulatoes.  It  is  situated  in  a  plain  of  mild  temperature,  well 
watered,  and  has  a  convent  and  fountain,  and  a  number  of  "  very  ancient 
buildings." 

Acc6cii:sAW8,  a  tribe  of  Indians  of  erratic  habits,  of  Te.\as,  whose  prin- 
cipal location  was  formerly  on  the  west  side  of  the  Colorado,  about  200  miles 
S.  W.  of  Nacogdoches.  At  a  remoter  period  they  lived  near  the  gulf  of 
Mexico:  they  made  great  use  of  fish,  and  oysters.  Authors  represent  the 
country  occupied,  or  traversed  by  them,  as  exceedingly  fertile  and  beautiful, 
and  abounding  in  deer  of  the  finest  and  largest  kind.  Their  language  is 
said  to  be  peculiar  to  themselves ;  they  are  expert  in  communicating  ideas  by 
the  system  of  signs.  About  A.  D.  1750  the  Spanish  had  a  mission  among 
them,  but  removed  it  to  Nacogdoches. 

AccoMAO,  a  county  of  Virginia,  lying  on  the  eastern  shores  of  Chesa- 
peak  bay.  This  part  of  the  sea  coast  was  inhabited  by  the  Nanticokes, 
who  have  left  their  names  in  its  geography.  We  have  but  a  partial  vo- 
cabulary of  this  tribe,  which  is  now  extinct.  It  has  strong  analogies, 
however,  to  other  Algonquin  dialects.  Aco,  in  these  dialects,  is  a  generic 
term,  to  denote  a  goal,  limit,  or  fixed  boundary.  Ahkee,  in  the  Nanticoke, 
is  the  term  for  earth,  or  land.  Auk,  is  a  term,  in  compound  words  of 
these  dialects,  denoting  wood.  The  meaning  of  accomac,  appears  to  be 
as  far  as  the  woods  reach,  or,  the  boundary  between  meadow  and  wood- 
lands. 

Acc'OMACS,  one  of  the  sub  tribes  inhabiting  the  boundaries  of  Virginia 
on  its  discovery  and  first  settlement.  Mr.  Jefferson  states  their  numbers 
in  1607  at  80.  In  1669,  when  the  legislature  of  Virginia  directed  a  cen- 
sus of  the  Indian  population,  within  her  jurisdiction,  there  appears  no  no- 
tice of  this  tribe.  They  inhabited  the  area  of  Northampton  county.  They 
were  Nanticokes — a  people  whose  remains  united  themselves  or  at 
least  took  shelter  with  the  Lenapees,  or  Delawares. 

AccoHA.Nocs,  a  division  or  tribe  of  the  Powhetanic  Indians,  numbering 
40,  in  1607.     They  lived  on  the  Accohanoc  river,  in  eastern  Virginia. 

16 


;i  i 


:ii 


242 


ETIINOI.OaY. 


Ar(!()MT;NTAS,  n  orjiid,  or  division  of  the  Puwtiickct  Indians  inhabiting 
the  northerly  purl  of  Miissnchusitis  in  1074.     (Gookin.) 

AciiAcwA,  a  nution  of  Inilians  of  New  Grcniidn,  dwollinp  in  the  pinins 
of  <  Juziiiinrc  and  Mcta,  and  in  the  woods  of  the  river  Ele.  They  ore  bold 
and  dexterous  hunters  with  the  dait  nnd  spear,  and  in  their  contests  with 
their  enemies,  they  poison  ihei:  \vei'i|)ons  They  are  fond  of  horses,  nnd 
rub  their  bodies  with  oil,  to  make  their  hair  shine.  They  go  naked 
except  a  small  azeaun  made  of  the  fibres  of  the  aloe.  They  anoint  their 
children  with  a  bituminous  ointment  nt  their  birth,  to  prevent  the  srroAth 
of  hair.  'I'he  brows  of  femahs  arc  also  deprived  of  hair,  and  immediately 
rubbed  with  the  juice  of  jaffiia.  whieh  rendf!rs  tliem  bald  ever  after.  They 
ore  of  a  jrentle  disposition  but  addicted  to  intoxication.  The  Jesuits  for- 
merly reduced  many  of  them  to  the  Catholic  faith,  and  formed  them  into 
settlements  in  16GI. 

AntAFAi.AVA,  t!-e  principal  western  outlet  of  the  Mississippi  river.  It  is 
a  Choctaw  word,  meaning,  "the  long  river,"  from  hwcha,  river,  and/a/aya, 
long.     (Gallatin.) 

AcKoWAVs,  a  synonym  for  a  band  of  Indians  of  New  France,  now 
Canada.     Sec  Acoiiez. 

AcMCKrKSEFBf:,  a  remote  northern  tributary  of  the  stream  called  Rum 
river,  which  enters  the  Mississippi,  some  few  miles  above  the  fulls  of  St. 
Anthony,  on  its  left  banks.  It  is  a  compound  phrase,  from  Akeek,  a 
kettle,  and  seebe,  a  stream.  It  was  on  the  margin  of  this  stream,  in  a 
wide  and  spacious  area,  interspersed  with  beaver  ponds,  that  a  detachment 
of  Gen.  Cass's  exploring  party  in  July  1S20,  encamped  ;  nnd  the  next 
morning  discovered  an  Indian  pictorial  letter,  written  on  bark,  detailing 
the  incidents  of  the  march. 

AcKF.KKo,  or  the  Kettle  chief,  a  leading  Saiic  chief  who  exercised  his 
authority  in  1820,  at  an  important  Indian  village,  situated  on  the  right 
banks  of  the  Mississippi,  at  Dubuque's  mines. 

AcJiiji.'ANCHu  ot-A,  the  name  of  a  creek  in  Pennsylvania  ;  it  signifies  in 
the  Delaware  or  Lcnapee  language,  as  given  by  Htckewelder,  the  brush- 
net  fishing  creek. 

AcinvK  K,  a  small  stream  in  central  Pennsylvania.  It  denotes  in  the 
Dfl.iware  language,  according  to  HeckewelJer,  brushy,  or  difficult  to 
pass. 

AconAMBA,  a  settlement  In  the  prnvmee  of  Angaraes  in  Peru,  near 
which  are  some  monumental  remains  of  the  ancient  race,  who  inhabited 
th(!  country  prior  to  its  conquest  by  the  Spanish.  They  consist,  chiefly, 
of  a  pyramid  of  stones,  and  the  ruins  of  some  well  sculptured  stone  couches, 
or  benches,  now  much  injured  by  time. 

Aooi.MAN,  San  Augustiri  de,  a  fettlement  of  240  families  of  Indians  of 
Tezcoco  in  Mexico.  It  is  situitefi  in  a  pleasant  valley,  with  a  benign  tem- 
perature, and  has  a  convent  of  Augustine  monks. 


.i 


ETHNOLOOV. 


243 


AcoMKn,  a  fill  in  the  river  Amariscofrq-in,  Mnino,  denoting,  in  the  Indian, 
MS  is  supposed,  a  rest,  or  place  of  stopping.     From  aco,  a  bound  or  point 

A"(i,MiiM'o,  n  villiiL:;e  of  12  Indian  families  in  Zochicoatlan,  New  Spain, 
two  le:imtes  W.  of  its  capital. 

At.oNK'iii,  the  name  of  a  sottlement  of  Indians  formerly  living  on  the 
river  Eno,  in  North  Carolina. 

AcoriTLAN,  a  settlement  of  15  Indian  families,  in  the  a/m/7ifflof  Aiitlan, 
Mexico.  They  employ  themselves  in  raisinif  cattle,  making  sugar  and 
honey,  and  e.xtracting  oil  from  the  cacao  fruit. 

AentiKz,  a  name  formerly  applied  by  the  French  to  a  band  of  Indians 
in  New  France.     Believed  to  be  identical  with  Ackownys. 

Ac(i'i\cKiNAC,  or  Auqua»;kimink,  the  Indian  name  of  a  town  on  the  W. 
side  of  the  F*ass;iic  river.  New  Jersey,  ten  miles  N.  of  Newark  and  17 
from  New  York.  From  aco,  a  limit,  misquak,  a  red  cedar,  and  auk,  a 
stump  or  trunk  of  a  tree. 

A'yi'i.Nosinori;,  or  United  People,  the  vernacular  name  of  the  Iroquois 
for  ihcii-  confederacy.  It  appears,  (Vom  iheir  traditions,  communicated  to  the 
Rev.  Mr  Pyrlaus,  a  Dutch  missionary  of  early  date,  that  this  term  had 
not  been  in  U3e  abevo  51'  years  prior  to  the  first  settlement  of  the  country : 
and  if  so,  wo  t.'ave  a  late  ivi'e,  not  more  remote  than  1550  for  the  origin 
of  this  celebrated  union.  iJut  this  maybe  doubted.  Cartier  discovered 
the  St.  Lawrence  in  1534,  and  found  them  at  the  site  of  Montreal  ;  Verri- 
zani,  is  siid  to  have  entered  the  bay  of  New  York  ten  years  before.  Hud- 
son ei'tered  the  liver  in  1G09.  Jamestown  was  founded  the  year  before. 
The  Pilgrims  landed  at  Plymouth  14  years  later.  It  is  more  probable 
that  ihe  50  years  should  be  taken  from  the  period  of  the  earlier  attempts 
of  thi'  French  settlements,  which  would  place  the  origin  of  the  confederacy 
about  A.  D.  1500.     (See  Iroquois.) 

ArroiwN,  or  Octitpan,  a  town  and  settlement  of  l\w  Othomies  Indians, 
situated  23  leagues  N  N.  E.  of  Me.tico.  Its  population  is  put  by  Alcedo 
in  l?-*?,  ill  2750  families.  These  are  divided  into  two  parties,  sep.irated 
by  thi  church.  It  also  contains  50  families  of  Spaniards,  Musloes,  and 
Mukfoes.  The  temperature  is  mild,  but  the  ground  is  infested  with  the 
cactii.s  thorns  and  teasel,  which  leads  the  inhabitants  to  devote  their  atten- 
tion to  tin-  raising  of  sheep  and  goats.  In  this  vicinity  are  found  numbers 
of  the  sihgulir  liird,  called  zeiizoutla  by  the  Mexican  Indians. 

Ai'TfiMN,  a  settlement  of  210  families  of  Indians  in  the  district  of  Xoci- 
niil(;o,  Mexico. 

An  lAPAX,  a  settlement  of  5S  Indian  families,  in  the  nlrahUa  mayor  of 
Zuliepec,  annexed  to  the  curacy  of  Temascaltepcc.  They  live  by  dress- 
ing hiJis  for  the  market — ib. 

AcrjiLPA,  a  settlement  of  02  Indian  families,  in  the  magistracy  of  TIapa, 
Mexico  It  is  of  a  hot  and  moist  temperature,  yielding  grain,  and  th* 
white  medicinal  earth  called  chia,  in  which  they  carry  on  a  trade. 


i! 


244 


BTHNOLOOT. 


Acuio,  a  consiJerablo  ««'ttlenient  of  Spaniards,  Musloog,  Mulalnrg,  and 
Negroes,  30  leagues  W.  of  Cinaqiia,  in  the  curacy  of  Tauricato,  Mexico  j 
embracing  0  Indian  families. 

AcuLA,  San  Picdro  de,  an  Indian  settlement  of  305  families,  four 
leagues  E.  of  Cozamnluapan,  its  capital.  It  is  situated  on  a  high  hill, 
bounded  by  n  largo  lake  of  the  most  salubrious  water,  called  Peutla  by  the 
natives.  This  lake  has  its  outlet  into  the  sea  through  the  sand  banks  of 
Alvarado,  and  the  lake  is  subject  to  overflow  its  Ixuiks  in  the  winter  season. 

Aci'irrr.AN,  an  Indian  settlement  of  45  families,  in  the  district  of 
Tepu.xilco,  Mexico,  who  trade  in  sugar,  honey,  and  maize.  It  is  five 
leagues  N.  E.  of  Zultepec,  and  a  (piarter  of  a  league  from  Acamuchitlan. 

AcuTZio,  an  Indian  settlement  of  Tiripitio,  in  the  magistracy  of  Valla- 
dolid,  and  bishopric  of  Mechoacan,  Mexico.  It  contiiins  13G  Indian 
families,  and  1 1  families  of  Spaniards  and  Mustees.  Si.x  cultivated  e.8tates 
in  this  district,  producing  wheat,  maize,  and  other  grains,  employ  most  of 
this  population,  who  also  devote  part  of  their  labour  to  the  care  of  large 
and  small  cattle. 

Adaf8,  or  Adaize,  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  formerly  lived  forty  mile» 
aouth  west  from  Natchitoches,  in  the  area  of  country,  which  now  consti- 
tutes a  part  of  the  republic  of  Texas.  They  were  located  on  a  lake, 
which  communicates  with  the  branch  of  Red-river  passing  Biiyou  Pierre. 
This  tribe  appears  to  have  lived  at  that  spot,  from  an  eorly  period.  Their 
language  is  stated  to  be  difTicult  of  ac(|iii8ition,  and  different  from  all 
others,  in  their  vicinity.  They  were  at  variance  with  the  ancient  Natchez, 
and  joined  the  French  in  their  assault  upon  them  in  170S.  They  were 
intimate  with  the  Caddoes,  and  spoke  their  language.  At  the  last  dates, 
(1812)  they  were  reduced  to  twenty  men,  with  a  disproportionate  number 
of  women.  The  synonyms  for  this  now  extinct  tribe  are,  Adayes  ;  Adees; 
Adaes;  Adaize. 

Adario,  a  celebrated  chief  of  the  Wyandot  nation,  who  was  at  the 
height  of  his  usefulness  and  reputation,  about  1690.  He  was  able  in  the 
councils  of  his  tribe,  shrewd  and  wily  in  his  plans,  and  firm  and  courage- 
ous in  their  execution.  The  Wyandots,  or  Hurons  as  they  are  called  by 
the  French,  were  then  living  at  Michilimackinac,  to  which  quarter  they 
had  been  driven  by  well  known  events  in  their  history.  The  feud  be- 
tween them  and  their  kindred,  the  Iroquois,  still  raged.  They  remained 
the  firm  allies  of  the  French  ;  but  they  were  living  in  a  state  of  expatri- 
ation from  their  own  country,  and  dependant  on  the  friendship  and  cour- 
tesy of  the  Algonquins  of  the  upper  lakes,  among  whom  they  had  found 
a  refuge.  Adario,  at  this  period,  found  an  opportunity  of  making  him- 
self felt,  and  striking  a  blow  for  the  eventual  return  of  his  nation. 

To  understand  hi-:,  position,  a  few  allusions  to  the  history  of  the  period 
«re  necessary. 

In  1687,  the  English  of  the  province  of  New- York,  resolved  to  avail 


ETHNOLOQT. 


245 


rs,  and 
lexico  J 

fs,  fouf 
yh  hill, 
fi  by  the 
lanUs  of 
r  season, 
itiict  of 
It  is  five 
uchitlan. 
of  Valla- 
G  Indian 
eJ  rotates 
y  most  of 
i  of  large 

brty  mile* 

lovv  consti- 

jn  a  lake, 

^'ou  Pierre. 

od.     Their 

It  from  all 

)t  Natchez, 
rhey  were 
last  dales, 

late  number 
es;  Adees; 

Iwas  at  the 

able  in  the 
|nd  courage- 
fe  called  by 

|uarter  they 
Ihc  feud  be- 

)y  remained 
of  expatri- 

ip  and  cour« 

ly  had  found 
laUing  hiui- 

Ition. 

)f  the  period 

lived  to  avail 


thrniselvca  of  n  recrnt  nllinnco  botweon  the  two  crowns,  to  attempt  a  par* 
ticipiuion  in  the  fur  trade  of  the  upper  lakes.  Thoy  peisuailed  the  Iro- 
quois to  set  free  a  number  of  Wyandot  captives  to  guide  them  through  the 
lakes,  and  open  an  iutercourso  with  their  people.  Owing  to  the  high 
price  and  srarcily  of  goods,  this  plan  was  favored  by  Adario  and  his  peo- 
ple, ami  iii^^o  by  the  Ottowas  and  I'ottowattomis,  but  the  onterprisc  failed. 
Major  Mc(Jiegory,  who  led  the  party,  was  intercepted  by  a  largo  body 
of  French  from  Mickinac,  the  whole  parly  captured  and  their  goods  were 
distributed  irratuitously  to  the  Indians,  'i'he  lake  Indians,  who  had,  co- 
vertly couiiienanced  this  attempt,  were  thrown  back  entirely  on  ihe  French 
trade,  and  subjected  to  suspicions  which  nirle  them  uneasy  in  ;  leir  coun- 
cils, and  an.xious  to  do  away  with  the  susp'cions  entertained  of  their  fidel- 
ity by  the  French.  To  this  end  Adario  marched  a  party  of  100  men 
from  Mackinac  against  the  Iroquois.  Stopping  at  -brt  C.  darackui  to  get 
some  intelligence  which  might  guide  him,  iIk  commai'  .-nt  inforr-  1  him 
that  the  governor  of  Canada,  Denonville,  was  in  hopes  of  conci  . 'ing  a 
pence  with  the  Five  Nations,  and  expected  their  ambassadors  at  Mur  ireal  in 
a  few  days.  He  therefore  advised  the  chief  to  return.  Did  s)ich  a  peace 
take  place,  Adario  perceived  that  it  would  leave  the  ircqiois  to  push  th>) 
war  against  his  nation,  which  had  already  been  drivt  i  from  the  banks  of 
the  Si  Lawrence  to  lake  Huron.  He  dissembled  his  fears,  however,  be- 
fore the  commandant,  and  left  the  fort,  not  for  the  purpose  of  returning 
home,  but  to  waylay  the  Iroquois  delegates,  at  a  portage  on  the  river  where 
he  knew  they  must  pass.  He  did  not  wait  over  four  or  five  days,  when 
the  deputies  arrived,  guarded  by  40  young  warriors,  who  were  all  sur- 
prised, and  either  killed  or  taken  prisoners.  His  next  object  was  to  shift 
the  blame  of  the  act  on  the  governor  of  Canada,  by  whom  he  told  his  pri- 
soners, he  had  been  informed  of  their  intention  to  pass  this  way,  and  he 
was  thus  prepared  to  lie  in  wait  for  them.  They  were  much  surprised  at 
this  apparent  act  of  perfidy,  informing  him  at  the  same  time,  that  they 
were  truly  and  indeed  on  a  message  Oi  p'^.ne.  Adario  afTected  to  grow 
mad  with  rage  against  Denonville,  dec.'iwjjg  that  he  would  some  lime  be 
revenged  on  him  for  making  him  a  tool,  in  committing  so  horrid  a  trea- 
chery. Then  looking  steadfastly  on  the  prisoners,  among  whom  was 
Dekanefora,  the  head  chief  of  the  Onondaga  tribe,  "  Go,"  said  he,  "  my 
brothers,  I  untie  your  bon's,  ;inJ  send  you  home  again,  although  our 
nations  be  at  war.  The  French  governor  has  made  me  commit  so  blacit 
an  action,  that  I  shall  never  be  easy  after  it,  until  the  Five  Nations  have 
taken  full  revenge."  The  ambassadors  were  so  well  persuaded  of  the 
perfect  truth  of  his  declarations,  that  they  replied  in  the  most  friendly 
terms,  and  said  the  way  was  opened  to  their  concluding  a  peace  between 
their  respective  tribes,  at  any  time.  He  then  dismissed  his  prisoners,  with 
presents  of  arms,  powder  and  ball,  keeping  but  a  sin.jle  man  (an  adopted 
Shawnee)  to  supply  the  place  of  the  only  man  he  had  lost  in  the  engage- 


'I 


m 


246 


ETIiNOLOKY. 


':ii      ! 


ment.  By  one  boM  cffjit  he  thus  l)le\v  up  the  fire  of  discord  between  the 
French  and  their  enemies,  at  the  moment  it  was  about  to  e.xpiit'.  and  laid 
the  foiiiiflation  of  a  peace  with  his  own  nation.  Adario  delivered  bis 
slave  to  the  French  on  reiichirijif  M.ickinnc,  who,  to  keep  up  the  old  en- 
mity between  the  Wyandots  and  the  Five  Nations,  ordered  him  to  be  shot. 
On  this  Adario  called  up  an  Iroquois  prisoner  who  was  a  witness  of  ibis 
scene,  and  wlio  had  long  been  detained  among  them,  and  told  him  lo  es- 
cape to  his  own  country,  and  give  an  acrount  of  the  crueltv  of  the 
French,  fron)  whom  it  was  not  in  his  power  to  save  a  prisoner  lie  bad 
him9t:lf  taken. 

This  increased  the  rage  of  the  Five  Nations  to  such  a  pitch,  that  when 
Mon?.  Denonville  sent  a  message  to  disown  the  act  of  Adario,  they  put  no 
faith  in  it,  but  burned  for  revenge.  Nor  was  it  long  before  the  French 
felt  the  effects  of  their  rage.  On  the  26th  of  July,  1088,  they  landed  with 
1200  men  on  the  upper  end  of  the  island  of  Montreal,  and  carried  dts- 
truction  wherever  they  went.  Houses  were  burnt,  plantations  sacked,  and 
men,  women  and  children  massacred  Above  a  thousand  of  the  French 
inhabitants  were  killed,  and  twenty-six  carried  away  prisoners,  most  of 
whom  were  burnt  alive.  In  October  of  the  same  year,  they  renewed  their 
incursion,  sweeping  over  the  lower  part  of  the  island  as  they  had  previ- 
ously done  the  upper.  The  consequences  of  these  inroads  were  most  dis- 
astrous to  the  French,  who  were  reduced  to  the  lowest  point  of  political 
despondency.  They  burnt  their  two  vessels  on  Cadarackui  lake,  aban- 
doned the  fort,  and  returned  to  Montreal.  The  news  spread  far  and  wide 
among  the  Indians  of  the  upper  lakes,  who,  seeing  the  fortunes  of  the 
French  on  the  wane,  made  treaties  with  the  English,  and  thus  opened  the 
way  for  their  merchandise  into  the  lakes. — [Golden.] 

Such  were  the  consequences  of  a  single  enterprise,  shrewdly  planned 
and  vigorously  executed.  The  fame  of  its  author  spread  abroad,  and  he 
was  every  where  regarded  as  a  man  of  address,  courage  and  abilities. 
And  it  is  from  this  time,  that  the  ancient  feud  between  the  Wyandots  and 
their  kindred,  the  Five  Nations,  began  to  cool.  They  settled  on  the  straits 
of  Detroit,  where  they  so  long,  and  up  lO  the  close  of  the  late  war  (1814.) 
exercised  a  commanding  influence  among  the  lake  tribes,  as  keepers  of  the 
general  council  fire  of  the  nations. 

La  Honlan,  in  his  Travels  in  New  France,  relates  some  conversations 
with  this  chief,  on  the  topic  of  religion,  which  may  be  regarded,  almost 
exclusively,  as  fabuloii;>. 

AnAVFs,  Adaks,  and  Adkf.s,  forms  of  orthography,  occurring  in  various 
writers,  for  the  Adaize  Indians,  which  see. 

Adkquatan'oif,  a  tributary  of  the  eastern  head  waters  of  the  river  Sus- 
quehanna in  New- York.     The  word  is  Iroquois. 

AnoEEs,  the  number  of  this  tribe,  residing  on  the  waters  of  Red  River, 


'  I 


ETHNOLOGY. 


U1 


?en  the 
lul  laid 
ic,l    his 

olJ  en- 
\,f  shot. 

of  this 
u  10  e8- 
V  of  the 

he  had 

ml  when 

E-v  pul  no 
.  French 
ndcJ  wiih 
ivvied  d«s- 
icked,  and 
le  French 
s,  moit  of 
ewed  ihtir 
had  pievi- 
e  most  dis- 
of  political 
like,  abiin- 
r  and  wide 
uncs  of  the 
opened  the 

lly  planned 
load,  and  he 
ind  abilities- 
i-andots  and 
m  the  straits 
war  (1814,) 
Icppeis  of  the 

l^onvrvsations 
Uded,  almost 

Ing  in  various 

[he  river  StJS- 

jf  Red  River, 


in  Louisiana,  in  1825,  is  stated,  in  an  ofiiciul  report,  from  the  war  depart- 
ment of  that  year,  at  twenty-seven. 

Ai  oi.ics,  a  settlement  of  Indians  in  tlic  province  of  Oiiiioco.  'I'hey 
were  of  the  S:tliva  nation.  The  settlement  was  destroyed  by  llie  Curibs 
in  1G-J4. 

A»ii;6m)a(Ks,  the  name  of  the  Iroquois  tribes  for  llie  Alyonqiiiiis.  The 
fonsiicrition  of  their  history  and  characteristics,  as  a  i.iinily  of  tiibes,  will 
be  tiken  up,  muler  the  latter  term. 

Ai)if!'>M)A(K  MoiiNPAiNP,  a  name  bestowed,  in  the  j^eological  survey  of 
New  Yo.k,  upon  the  moiintains  at  tiie  source  of  the  Hudson  lliver. 

AniK,  Ia-ija.     See  laba  Wadik. 

AiMKiMiNis,  or  Cariboo  Island  ;  an  island  situated  in  the  north  eastern 
part  of  l»ko  Superior,  which  is  invested  with  no  other  importance  than  it 
derives  Tom  Indian  mythology  and  superstition.  It  is  small  and  has  sel- 
dom been  visited.  The  Cliippewas  believe  that  this  is  one  of  the  places 
of  resilience  of  their  local  manitoes,  and  that  it  was  formerly  iiiliabitrd  hy 
Michiibo  or  Manaliosho,  Early  travellers,  who  notice  this  belief,  repre- 
sent its  shores  to  t.'C  covered  with  jjolJen  sands,  but  that  these  sands  are 
guiu'ded  by  powerful  spirits,  who  will  not  permit  the  treasure  to  be  carried 
away.  Many  fanciful  tales  are  told  of  its  having  been  once  attenipted, 
when  a  hw^o  spirit  st'ode  into  the  water,  and  reclaimed  the  shining  trea- 
sure. This  is  Carver's  version,  who,  however,  confounds  it  with  another 
contiijuous  island.  Henry,  who  visited  it  in  his  search  after  silver  mines, 
in  I7G.">.  says  that  the  Indians  told  him  that  their  ancestors  hud  o:.co 
landed  there,  being  driven  by  stress  of  weather,  but  had  great  difFii  ulty 
in  e.sc.iping  from  the  power  of  enormous  snalces.  He  calls  it  the  Island 
of  Yellow  S  mds.  It  abounded  certainly  with  hawks  in  his  day,  one  of 
whom  was  so  bold  as  to  pluck  his  cap  from  his  head.  He  found  nothing 
to  reward  his  search  but  a  number  of  Caril)oos.  which  is  the  .American 
reindeer,  of  which  no  less  than  13  were  killed,  during  his  stay  of  three 
days.  He  represented  it  to  be  I'i  miles  in  circumference,  low,  and  covered 
with  ponds,  ami  to  be  sixty  miles  distant  from  the  north  shore  of  the  lake. 
He  thinks  it  is  perhaps  the  same  island  which  the  French  called  Isle  de 
Poiifcharlrain. 

AFFA(;our.A,  a  small  village  of  Indians,  of  Louisiana,  who  were  located 
in  1783  near  Point  Coup6,  on  the  Missit^sippi. 

Ac;<('i:s,  a  nation  of  Indians  of  the  province  of  Paraguay.  They  are 
numeious,  valiint.  and  of  a  lofty  stature.  They  were,  in  ancient  times, 
masters  of  the  banks  of  the  Paraguay,  waging  war  against  the  Guavanies, 
and  keeping  the  Spaniards  at  bay,  but  were  at  last  subjugated  in  1.542,  by 
Alvar  Nimez  Cabezi  de  Vaca,  governor  of  the  province. 

A'iAiMATA,  an  Iroquois  chief,  who,  having  gone  on  an  embassy  of  peace 
About  1()88,  to  Canada,  the  governor,  Monsieur  Coiirsel,  being  cxaspe- 


248 


ETHNOLOGY. 


Ii 


rated  against  him,  on  account  of  bad  faith  and  a  violation  of  a  treaty,  caused 
him  to  be  hanged  in  the  presence  of  his  countrymen. 

Agamentigls,  a  mountain  of  considerable  elevation,  eight  mdes  from 
York  harbour,  Maine;  also,  a  river  of  the  same  vicinity,  which  derives 
jts  waters  chiefly  from  the  influx  of  Piscataqua  bay.  The  termination 
of  the  name  in  us,  is  foreign,  and  not  in  accordance  with  the  Abenakie 
dialects  of  this  coast. 

Agamuntic,  the  name  of  a  small  lake,  or  pond,  of  Maine,  which  dis- 
charges its  waters  through  the  west  branch  of  the  Chaudiere  river. 

Agawams,  a  band  of  Indians  of  the  Pokenoket,  or  Wampanong  typfi, 
who  formerly  lived  at  various  periods,  in  part  in  Sandwich,  in  part  in 
Ipswich,  and  in  part  in  Springfield,  Massachusets.  The  word  is  written 
with  some  variety,  in  old  authors,  the  chief  of  which,  are,  the  addition  of 
another  g,  and  the  change  of  the  penultimate  a  to  o. 

Agiocochook,  a  name  of  the  Indians,  for  the  White  Mountains  of  New- 
Hampshire  ;  of  which  the  penuhimate  ok,  is  the  plural.  This  group  is 
also  called,  according  to  President  Allen,  Waumbek — a  word,  which  in 
some  of  the  existing  dialects  of  the  Algonquin,  is  pronounced  Waubik, 
that  is.  White  Rock. 

Agnalcs,  a  tribe  of  infidel  Indians,  inhabiting  the  mountains  north  of 
the  river  Apure,  in  New  Grenada. 

Agkias,  a  tribe  of  Indians,  formerly  very  numerous,  of  the  govern- 
ment of  Santa  Marta,  to  the  north  of  the  Cienegra  Grande.  They  are,  at 
present,  considerably  reduced. 

Agua  :)e  Ct'LEBRA,  San  Francisco  Xavier  De  La,  a r-crfuccjon of  Indians 
of  the  Capuchins,  of  the  province  of  Venezuela.  The  vicinity  produces, 
in  abundance,  cacao,  yucao,  and  other  vegetable  productions. 

Aguacagua,  an  Indian  mission,  on  a  branch  of  the  Oronoco,  called 
Caroni. 

Aguacati.an,  an  Indian  mission  of  Xala,  in  Mexico.  In  1745,  il 
contained  80  families  of  Indians,  who  cuhivated  maize  and  French  beans. 

Agualuu'o,  the  capital  of  the  jurisdiction  of  Izatlan,  New  Giilicia,  which 
in  1745,  contained  100  Indian  families. 

Aguanos,  a  settlement  in  the  province  of  Mainas,  Quito,  so  called  from 
the  Indians  of  whom  it  is  composed. 

Aguarico,  an  Indian  mission  of  the  Jesuits,  on  the  shores  of  the  river 
Napo,  of  the  province  of  Mainas,  Quito. 

Aguaringua,  an  ancient  and  large  settlement  of  Indians  of  the  Taironas 
nation,  in  Santa  Marta. 

Aguii.usco,  a  settlement  of  the  district  of  Arantzan,  in  the  province  of 
Mechoacan,  which  contains  36  Indian  Aimilies.  They  subsist  by  sowing 
seed,  cutting  wood,  making  saddle  trees,  and  manufacturing  vessels  of  fine 
earthen  ware. 


ETHNOuOQY. 


249 


Ahapopka,  a  lake  of  Florida,  having  its  outlet  through  the  Oclawaha 
liver  of  the  St.  John's. 

AiiASiMUs,  an  ancient  Indian  name,  for  the  present  site  of  Jersey  city, 
Hudson  county,  New  Jersey. 

Ano.ME,  or  Ahorna,  a  nation  of  Indians,  living  on  the  banks  of  the  river 
Zaquc,  in  the  province  of  Cinaloa,  of  California.  They  are  located  four 
leagues  from  the  gulf,  in  extensive  and  fertile  plains,  and  are  said  to  be  su- 
perior, by  nature,  to  the  other  Indians  of  New  Spain.  Some  of  tlieir 
customs  denote  this.  They  abhor  poligamy,  they  hold  virginity  in  the 
highest  estimation.  Unmarried  girls,  by  way  of  distinction,  wea"  a  small 
shell  suspended  to  their  neck,  until  the  day  of  their  nuptials,  when  it  is 
taken  off  by  the  bridegroom.  They  wear  woven  cotton.  They  bewail 
their  dead  a  year,  at  night  and  morning.  They  are  gentle  and  faithful  in 
their  covenants  and  engagements. 

AuoiiANDArr:,  a  name  "or  the  tribe  of  the  Wyandots,  which  is  found  on 
ancient  maps  of  the  Colonies. 

AiiCACATLAN,  the  name  of  four  separate  settlements  of  Mexico,  contain- 
ing, respectively,  51,  13,  4.")0,  and  IGO  families  of  Indians. 

AuiJACAZALC/i,  Nueva  Espana.  At  this  place,  56  families  of  Indians 
live  by  raising  rice  and  cotton.  It  is  in  the  district  of  San  Luis  de  la 
Costa. 

AiiUACAZiN'Go,  in  the  district  of  Atengo,  Nueva  Espana,  contains  46 
Indian  families. 

Aeihalican,  of '.i.e  same  province,  has  36  Indian  families. 

AiiUATELCo,  ib.     Has  289  faniilies,  who  cultivate  wheat  and  raise  cattle. 

AnuATKMPA,  ib.     Has  39  families. 

AnuATKi'Kc,  ib.     Has  32  families. 

AuiiAZiTLA,  ib.  Has  36  families,  who  trade  mchia,  a  white  medicinal 
earth,  grain  and  earthf:n-ware. 

AnwAiiAWA,  a  tiibe  of  Indians  who  were  found  in  180.)  to  be  located 
a  few  miles  above  the  Mandans,  on  the  south  west  banks  of  the  Missouri. 
They  are  believed  to  have  been  a  band  of  the  Minnitares.  They  numbered 
nt  that  date  200.  They  were  at  war  with  the  Snake  Indians.  Theyclaim 
to  have  once  been  a  part  of  the  Crow  natiofi.  They  professed  to  have  been 
long  residents  of  the  spot  occupied.  The  name  has  not  been  kept  up, 
and  does  not  appear  in  recent  reports  from  that  quarter.  Their  history 
is,  probably,  to  bo  sought  in  that  of  the  Mandans  and  the  Minnetares. 

AiAuoAL.TKHr'A,  a  settlement  of  Chalipa,  Mexico,  containing  36  Indian 
families. 

AiAiitiAr.tiLro,  ib.  Two  settlements  of  this  name,  contain,  respectively, 
70  and  42  Indian  families. 

AiATAXGd,  ib.  contains  100  Indi.m  fimilies. 

AiATKPKc,  ib.  has  '15  families  of  natives. 

AiAUTLA,  ib.  has  100  families. 


250 


ETHNOLOGY. 


AicifES,  a  settlement  of  Indians  of  Texas,  situated  on  the  main  road  t 
Mexico. 

AiKCTirAo,  Mexico.     T»venty-one  Indinn  families  reside  here. 

AiNsr;,  a  Chippewa  chief  of  Point  St.  I^rnace,  Mwhiiimackinac  county, 
Michigan.  Tlic  popuktion  of  this  bam!,  as  shown  by  the  government 
census  rolls  in  1S4U,  was  193,  of  whom  33  weio  men,  .'34  women,  and  106 
children.  They  support  ihemst'lves  by  the  ciiasi!  and  by  fishing.  They 
cultivate  potatoes  only.  They  receive,  together  with  the  other  bands,  an- 
nuities *'iom  the  government,  in  coin,  provisions,  salt,  and  tobacco,  for 
which  purpose  they  assemble  annually,  on  the  island  of  MichiiimacKinac. 
The  name  of  this  chief  is  believed  to  be  a  corruption  fiom  Hans. 

AiociiESCo,  an  Indian  settlement  of  Chulipa,  Mexico.  lias  400  [ndian 
families. 

Ai'icTiTf.AX,  ib.     Has  70  ditto. 

AioziNAPA,  ib.     Has  34  ditto. 

A'OZivGO,  ib.     Has  120  ditto. 

Anir<  OS,  a  nation  of  Indims  inhal)iling  the  plains  of  Cazanare  and 
Meta  in  the  new  kingdom  of  Grenada,  to  the  east  of  the  mountains  of 
Bogota.  They  inhabit  the  banks  of  the  river  Ele.  Thfy  are  numerous 
and  warlike,  and  feared  by  all  their  neighbours,  for  their  valour  and  dex- 
terity in  the  use  of  arms.  In  10G2  Antonio  do  Monteverde,  a  Jesuit,  es- 
tablished a  mission  among  them,  and  baptized  numbers. 

AiSiiQiAOi  NAiifK.  A  Chippewa  chief,  of  some  note,  of  a  mild  and  dig- 
nified carriage,  living  on  Grand  Traverse  B.iy,  on  the  east  shores  of  lake 
Michigan.  In  1830  he  formed  a  part  ol  the  delegation  of  ("hippewa  and 
Ottowa  chiefs,  who  procee  lei  to  W.ishington  city,  and  concludi'd  a  treaty 
ceding  their  lands  to  the  U.  S.  from  Grand  river  on  lake  Michioan,  to 
Chocolate  river  on  lake  Superior.  I'he  name  signifies,  the  first  feather,  or 
feather  of  honour.  The  population  of  his  village  in  IS40,  as  shown  by 
the  ct-nsus  rolls,  was  207,  of  whom  51  were  men,  or  heads  of  families,  49 
women,  and  107  children.  They  receive  annuities  annually  at  Michili- 
mackinac.  'i'hey  subsist  by  the  chase,  by  planting  corn,  beans  and  puta 
toes,  and  by  fishing. 

AisMKFi!i:r;  Kozir,  or  the  Flat  Mouth,  called  Uuelle  Platte,  in  the  patois 
of  the  Fur  Trade,  'i'he  Head  chief  of  the  band  of  the  Chippewas,  called 
Mukimdwas  or  Pilligers,  who  are  situated  at  Leech  Lake,  on  the  sources 
of  the  Mississifipi.  This  band,  it  is  estimated,  can  furnish  200  warricis. 
they  are  a  brave  and  warlike  people,  and  are  at  perpelUiil  war  with  their 
western  neighbours,  the  Sioux.  They  subsist  by  the  chase,  and  by  tak* 
ing  white  fish  in  the  lake.  Some  cum  and  potatoes  are  also  raised  by  the 
women  and  the  old  and  sujierannuated  men  of  the  band.  They  area  fierce, 
wild,  untamed  race,  strong  in  their  numbers,  and  proud  and  confiilimt  in 
their  succi'.«s  in  war,  and  the  comparative  ease  with  which  they  procure  si 
subsistence  from  the  chase.     They  adhere  to  their  ancient  religious  cere- 


1 


KTHNOLOOV. 


251 


e  sonici'8 
wnnicis. 
wiili  their 
11(1  ly  tiiU* 
seJ  by  tho 
10  a  fioi  ce, 
:)iifiil('rit  ill 
procure  a 
rjous  cere- 


monies and  incnntutions,  iind  are  ntidor  the  government  of  their  native 
priest.*,  joss ik'ods  and  seeis.  Aishkebuiiekozh,  h.iS  for  nuiny  yeuis  exer- 
cised the  political  sway  over  them,  leading  them,  sometimes  to  war,  and 
presi  ling,  at  all  limes,  in  their  councils.  He  'S  a  shrewd  man,  of  much 
observation  and  experience  in  the  atlairs  of  the  frontiers.  He  is  of  a 
larye,  rather  st.nil  frame,  broid  shoulde.s  and  chest,  and  broad  face,  with 
a  somewhat  Stern  coinitenauce,  denoting  decision  of  character  and  capa- 
city to  command.  Thin  and  e.xtended  lips,  parted  in  a  rif^ht  line  over  a 
prominent  jiw,  ren(Jer  the  name,  which  his  people  have  bi'Stowed  on  him, 
chaiacteiistic.  By  the  term  Kozh,  instead  of  O  loan,  the  true  meaning  of 
it  is  rather  muzzle,  or  snout,  than  mouth,  a  distinction  which  the  French 
have  preserved  in  the  term  Guel/e. 

Aii:iN"s,  a  nation  of  Indians,  of  the  government  of  Cinalon,  New  Spain. 
They  live  in  the  north  part  of  the  province.  They  formeily  dwelt  in 
lofty  mountains,  to  escape  the  eflecis  of  war  with  other  nations.  In  IG24, 
the  Jesuits  established  a  mission  amongst  them.  They  are  docile,  well  in- 
clined, and  of  good  habits. 

AiVTLA,  a  S'ttlement  of  New  Spain,  containing  187  Indian  families. 
Another  location  of  the  same  name  contains  23  families. 

A.ion;s,  a  tribe  of  Indians  of  Louisiana,  in  its  ancient  e.xtent,  while  it 
e.xisted  under  the  governmimt  of  the  French.  The  word,as  e.xprf  ssed  in 
English  orthography,  is  lowas,  and  thetiibe  will  be  considered  under  tlmt 
head. 

AKfi-iA,  an  Odjibwa  chief,  living  on  the  peninsula  of  Grand  Traverse 
Bay,  lake  Michigan,  known  for  his  good  will  towards  the  mission  esta- 
blished near  his  villige,  by  the  American  Board,  in  1833.  In  the  recess 
periods  of  hunting,  he  is  attentive  on  the  means  of  instruction  furnished 
at  that  station.  He  enjoins  on  his  children  attendance  at  the  school.  He 
bestows  a  punctual  care  in  planting  his  corn-fieid  and  garden.  He  has 
erected  a  good  dwelling  house  of  logs,  and  supplied  it  with  several  articles 
of  plain  household  furnitiiie.  He  is  of  a  mild  and  pleasing  character, 
and  appreciates  and  acknowledges  tlie  superiority  of  agriculture  and  civi- 
lization over  the  uncertainties  of  the  chase.  Without  distinction  in  war, 
or  eloquence,  or  a  genealogy  of  warriors  lo  refer  to,  and  consequently,  of 
but  little  general  note  or  fame  in  his  tribe,  he  is  an  active  hunter,  and 
stal)Ie.  temperate  man,  and  may  be  regarded  as  a  fair  average  specimen, 
physically  and  mentally,  of  the  race.  The  band  of  Akosa  mustered  IGO 
souls,  on  the  pay  rolls  of  1810.  of  which  number,  37  were  men.  42  women, 
and  89  children.     'J'hey  receive  their  annuities  at  IVlichilimackinac. 

Akan.sa,  a  synonym  of  Arkansas. 

At-AiiAMA,  one  of  the  United  State;5  of  America.  The  name  is  derived 
from  a  tribe  of  Indians,  who  formerly  inhabited  the  banks  of  the  river  of 
the  same  name  This  river,  on  its  junction  with  the  Tnmbigbee,  forms  the 
Mobile.     The  Alabama  Indians,  were  succeeded  in  tJie  occupancy  of  this 


252 


ETHNOLOGY. 


river  by  the  Creoles,  or  Muscogecs.  They  withdrew  towards  the  west 
In  1790  their  descendants  lived  in  a  village,  eligibly  situated,  on  several 
swelling  green  hills  on  the  banks  of  the  Mississippi.  No  accounts  of  them 
are  given  in  recent  reports.  They  appear  to  have  continued  their  route 
westward  by  the  way  of  Ked  River.  The  precise  period  of  their  cross- 
ing the  Mississippi  is  not  known.  They  came  to  Red  River  about  the 
same  time  as  the  Eolixies  and  Appalaches.  Their  language  is  represented 
to  be  the  Mobilian,  as  denominated  by  Du  Pratz,  that  is  the  Chacta.  Part 
of  them  lived,  at  the  end  of  the  18th  century,  on  Red  River,  si.xteen  miles 
above  Bayou  Rapide.  Thence  they  went  higher  up  the  stream,  and  set- 
tled near  the  Caddoes,  where  they  raised  good  crops  of  corn.  An- 
other pjity,  of  about  40  men,  lived  in  Apalousas  district,  where  they 
cultivated  corn,  raised  and  kept  horses,  hogs  and  cattle,  and  exhibited  a 
quiet  and  pacific  character.  From  a  statement  published  in  a  paper,  at 
Houston,  the  seat  of  government  of  Texas,  in  1840,  their  descendants 
were  then  settled  on  the  river  Trinity,  in  that  republic,  where  they  are  as- 
sociated with  the  Coshattas,  forming  two  villages,  numbering  two  hundred 
warriors,  or  about  1000  souls.  They  preserve,  in  this  new  location,  the 
pacific  and  agricultural  traits  noticed  during  their  residence  in  Lousiana. 

Alacuu.'v,  an  extensive  level  prairie,  in  Florida,  about  75  miles  west  of 
St.  Augustine.  The  ancient  Indian  town  of  Alachua,  stood  on  hs  bor- 
ders, but  its  inhabitants  removed  to  a  more  healthful  position  at  Cusco- 
willa. 

Alaclatzala,  a  settlement  in  the  district  of  St.  Lewis,  New  Spain,  con- 
taining 125  Indian  families. 

Alahuitzt.an,  ib.  a  settlement  having  270  Indian  families. 

Alapaiia,  one  of  the  higher  tributary  streams  of  the  Suwannee  river,  in 
Florida. 

Ar.ASKE,  or  Onalaska,  a  long  peninsula  on  the  N.  W.  coast  of  America. 
At  its  termination,  are  a  number  of  islands,  which  form  a  part  of  the  clus- 
ter called  the  northern  Archepelago. 

ALBAUiiADA,  a  settlement  of  Indians  in  the  kingdom  of  Chile,  situated 
on  the  shores  of  the  river  Cauchupil.  Also  a  settlement  of  New  Spain, 
containing  22  Indian  families. 

ALKMriGo.N  improperly  written  for  Nipigon,  a  small  lake  north  of  lake 
Superior. 

Alfaxaiuca,  a  settlement  of  Now  Spain,  ontaining  171  Indian  fami 
lies. 

Algansee,  a  township  of  the  county  of  Branch,  Michigan.  It  is  a 
compound  derivative  from  Algonkin,  i^rtw,  a  particle  denoting  a  lake,  and 
mushcodainse,  a  prairie. 

ALCiic,  an  adjective  term  used  by  the  writer,  to  denote  a  genus  or  family 
of  tribes  who  take  their  characteristic  from  the  use  of  the  Algonquin  Ian- 


" 


ETHNOLOQT. 


S54 


le  west 

several 

1 

of  them 

■ 

nr  route 

I 

>ir  cross- 
bout  the 
)rescnted 
a.     Part 

1 

3en  miles 
and  set- 

1 

n.      An- 

1 

ere  they 
<hvbited  a 

!l 

paper,  at 
scendants 

•'1 

py  are  as- 
0  hundred 

I 

cation,  the 

Lousiana. 
,es  west  of 

on  its  bor- 

\ 

at  Cusco- 

1 

Spain,  con- 

lee  river,  in 

America, 
of  the  clus- 

ilc,  situated 
New  Spain, 

Mth  of  lake 

ndian  fami 

an.     It  is  a 
a  lake,  and 

lus  or  family 
gonquin  lan- 


guage.    It  is  a  derivative  from  the  words  Algonquin,  and  A/cci,  earth,  or 
land. 

Aloonquiiv,  a  nation  of  Indians  wlio,  on  the  discovery  and  settlement  of 
Canada,  were  found  to  occupy  the  north  banks  of  the  St.  Lawrence  be- 
tween (iufbec.  Three  Rivers,  and  tiie  junction  of  the  Utawas.  Quebec 
itself  is  believed  to  be  a  word  derived  from  this  Linguarre,  having  its  origin 
in  Kebic,  the  fearful  rock  or  clifl!  When  the  Fietich  settled  at  Uuebec, 
fifteen  hundred  finrliting  men  of  this  nation  lived  between  that  nation  and 
SiUery.  They  were  reputed,  at  this  era,  to  be  the  most  warlike  and  power- 
ful people  in  North  America,  and  the  most  advanced  in  their  policy  and 
intelligence.  Golden  speaks  of  them  as  excelling  all  others.  On  the  ar 
rival  of  Champlain,  who,  although  not  the  discoverer  of  the  country,  was 
the  true  founder  of  the  French  power  in  Canada,  they  were  supplied  with 
fire  arms,  and  even  led  to  war,  by  that  chivalric  officer,  against  their  ene- 
mies, the  Iroquois.  They  were  stimulated  to  renewed  exertions  in  vari- 
ous ways,  by  the  arrival  of  this  new  power,  and  carried  the  terror  of  their 
arms  towards  the  soutJ*  and  south-west.  They  were  in  close  alliance 
with  the  Wyandots,  a  people  who,  under  the  names  of  Q,uatoghie3  and 
Hurons,  on  Cartier's  arrival  in  1534,  were  seen  as  low  down  the  St. 
Lawrence  as  the  island  of  Anticosti,  and  bay  Chaleur.  But  as  soon  as 
the  Iroquois  had  been  supplied  with  the  same  weapons,  and  learned  their 
use,  the  Algonquins  were  made  to  feel  the  elTects  of  their  courage,  and 
combined  strength.  The  Wyandots  were  first  defeated  in  a  great  battle 
fought  within  two  leagues  of  Gluebec.  The  Iroquois  ne.xt  prepared  to 
strike  an  efllective  blow  against  the  collective  tribes  of  kindred  origin, 
called  Algonquins.  Under  the  pretence  of  visiting  the  Governor  of  Ca- 
nada, they  introduced  a  thousand  men  into  the  valley  of  the  St.  Lawrence, 
when,  finding  their  enemies  separated  irtto  two  bodies,  the  one  at  the  river 
Nicolet,  and  the  other  at  Trois  Riviere,  they  fell  upon  them  unawares, 
and  defe:ited  both  divisions.  In  this  defeat  the  Nipercerinians  (Nipes- 
sings)  and  the  Atawawas  (Ottowas)  who  then  lived  on  the  banks  of  the 
St.  Lawrence,  participated.  The  former,  who  were  indeed  but  the  Al- 
gonfjuins  under  their  proper  name,  drew  off  towards  the  north-wesL 
The  Atawawas  migrated  lo  the  great  chain  of  the  Manatoulines  of  lake 
Huron,  whence  they  have  still  proceeded  further  towards  the  west  and  south, 
until  they  reached  L'arbre  Croche  and  Grand  River  of  Michigan,  their 
present  seats.  The  Quatoghies  or  Wyandots  fled  to  the  banks  of  the 
same  Luke  (Huron)  vni^ti  nas  derived  it;-  name  from  the  celebrity  of  their 
flight  to,  and  residence  on  ita  banks. 

Of  the  ."Mgonquins  proper  who  remained  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  who 
are  specifically  entitled  to  that  name,  but  a  limited  number  survive. 
About  the  middle  of  the  17th  century,  they  were  reduced  to  a  few  villages 
near  Gluebec,  who  were  then  said  to  be  "  wasted,  and  wasting  away  under 
the  effects  of  ardent  spints."     Subsequently,  they  were  collected,  by  the 


1254 


F.'rtiNoi.or.Y. 


Citliolii:  Cluiirh,  into  n  mission,  iiml  sciiltd  iit  llie  L:il(r  of  'I'wo  Moim 
liiiiis,  on  iho  Ui.iwis  or  Uriinl  Rivi'r  of  Ctnil.i,  wIkto  lUry  |iivi>  heen 
instiui'tt!.!  in  various  aits,  aiiJ  ciroi'liiilly  riviliziil.  TIhtc, tl.tir  ilt-si-cnJ 
mils  Mill   remain.      They  ari'  a  t.ill,  activf,  slin-vvil,  liilu-,  (•nfrj,'ic   race 


I'art 


IfS  ol 


III 


irni  liavo  Ih'i'ii  t'liifaift'd  as  vov.iircis  an> 


liiiiitc 


IS,  wiiliMi  mo- 


(ItMii  tiini'S,  ami  itnl  in  i\w  prusccillion  of  the  fur  trade  into  the  rniioic  for 
o.sis  ol  iliL'  iioitli-wt'st.  In  tlu'so  postilions,  tlii:y  liavr  inanifcsicd  a  ilffjiro  of 
nici'i^'V.  hai'ciihoo.l,  and  skill  in  llie  cliu^f,  liir  licyond  llmi  po>s<'s»t<d  hy 
native,  nnicclainifd  tiilit'S.  'I'lu'  Aii^nnKpiin  vvoiimi,  tit  llic  Ijtikc  ul  Two 
Mountains,  make  V(>rY  inii^'Lions  basket  an. I  head  woik,  in  wliicli  tlio 
dyed  (]iiills  of  the  porfiij)ino,  aii.l  viirioii.s  coloured  Leads  of  Eiiiopean 
nianiifai-tnre,  are  employed.  Tliey  also  make  (inj,'er  riiijfS  out  of  niooso 
iiair,  taken  from  the  breast  tiif't  of  this  animal,  in  whii-ji  mottoes  or  devices 
ore  worked  They  have  molodioiis  soft  voices,  in  chantiny;  the  hymns 
siiMu  at  the  mission.  This  tiihe  is  e.  illcl  ( )Ii.i!ikii  i^ricm,  that  is,  I'loplo- 
nt  theeiiil  of-lhi'-w. Iters,  hy  tilt;  Oljihwas.  They  we,e  called  Adiron- 
daeks,  hy  the  Si.K  Nations.  The  term  Al!,n)n(,iiin,  which  we  derive  from 
tile  Ficncli,  is  not  of  certain  elymolojjy.  It  appears  at  first  to  have  het-n  a 
?iiim  ill' <;iirrn:  for  the  paitictilar  peo|)le,  or  trihe,  whose  descendants  are 
now  cimfined  to  the  position  at  the  Lake  of  'I'wo  Monntains.  It  was  early 
npplieii  to  all  the  tribes  of  kindred  oriifin.  An  !  is  now  u  jreneric  teim  Ibi 
n  fiMiilv  or  primitive  stock  of  tribes  in  Noitli  America,  who  either  speak 
cojTiKite  dialects,  or  assimilate  in  the  Itadinij  priiiciple.r  of  their  lanijiiages. 

The  number  of  these  tribes  still  e.visliiii.'',  is  very  lare;t',  and  viewed  in 
the  jioiiits  of  their  greatest  dilfl'rence.  tht;  variations  in  the  consonantal  and 
diidi'lionual  sounds  of  their  lansjiiages.  are  consiilerable      As  a  p'tieial 

o<,naphical  area,  these  tribes,  at  various  periods  from  about  KHIU,  to  tl 


pt' 


le 


present    time,    ettinojrrapliically    covered    ttie    j 


il\ 


Atlantic 


St,    ( 


rom 


the 


northern  extremity  of  I'amlico-sound  to  ilie  Straits  of  IJidlislo,  exteiidiiiiif 
west  and  north-west,  to  the  banks  of  the  Mi.^sinlpi  of  Hnlson's  Hay,  and 
to  the  e;ist  borders  of  tlie  Mississippi,  as  low  as  the  jniiciiun  o(  the  Ohio. 
From  this  area,  the  principal  e.vceptions  are  the  lio(|iiois  of  New  V'ork, 
the  Wvaiuidts  west,  and  tiie  Winnobagocs  and  small  bands  of  ilu;  Doco- 
talis.  The  grammatical  principles  of  these  dialects,  coincide.  Asa  ci  ne- 
ral  fict,  in  their  lexicography  the  letters  f,  r  and  v  are  wanting.  'J'lie 
dialects  derive  their  pecniiaiities,  in  a  great  measure,  fiom  inteichantres 
lietwecii  the  soiunls  of  I  and  n.  b  iinil  p.  d  and  t,  g  and  k,  in  some  of  wiiicli, 


theie  is  a  variance  even  in  distant  bands  ol  the  same  trib< 


'I'he  b 


ni'iiaije 


IS  transpositive. 


In  its 


conjugations. 


tb 


|)i()noiiiis  are  incorporated  w 


•ith 


the  veili.  either  as  prcfi.ses  or  suflixes.      Its  substantives  are  piovided  with 
adjective  inflections,  ib  notin<j  size  and  rpiality.     Itsveibs,  on  the  other 


land,  receive  substantive   in 


(iect 


icms. 


(iender  is.  as  n  rule,  lo.-t  siuht  of, 


in 


th»'  nnirorin  attempt,  tn  preserve,  by  inflections.  ,.  distinction  between 
animate  and  inunimate,  nnd  personal  or  impersonal  objects.     It  is  remark- 


KTIlNOLOUy. 


255 


Moim 
(•  lieon 

c  race 
W\\\  ino- 
loif  •'»'■ 
I'gri'O  »' 

ol  Two 
hull  ilie 

of  iiiooso 
,)!•  ilttviccB 
lu'  liyinn" 

l  Adiion- 
t,,ivf  I'loin 
mvt!  lii't-n  a 
I'lulaiits  are 
UvMi8«'aily 
lii-  U'.ini  lo» 
•iiht'i-  sjifak 

,1  vie  will  in 
idiianial  auJ 
s  a  p'MOial 
I  GOO,  10  il>e 
;l,   ticiiu  tlic 
0,  i>xtciiili"S 
|,rs  Hay,  aiiii 

ol  (li.-Ohio. 

Nrw  VdiU, 

of  tlu!  Ho'"- 
As  a  e<'n*5- 

n^in-^      'I''"' 
iniiMolmiiL'ts 

Licol' Nvlii''^>i 
ln>e  laiiooage 
Huiiatfd  svKli 
puniiW'J  willi 
on  tilt-  cnhcr 

[,,  lost  M<^l>t  «fi 

c„on  I'etwpon 
U  18  leinark- 


Hbln  for  the  variety  of  its  compoiiiKis,  nltlioii^li  tli<;  vocatailary  itst'lT,  is 
iiiunifcstly  cotiMU la'icd  from  iiioiiosylf.iliic.  roots.  All  il.i  siilistantivcs 
odinit  ot  (liiiiitiiitivi'H,  lait,  in  no  iiustaiire,  of  aiigrncntalivi!),  Tlicy  also 
sdinit  of  (luio<raliv('  and  prcpositioiiiilinnt'Otions.  'I'lio  oiiipiiiiisiui  of 
adji'Oti vi'8,  is  not,  on  tin;  conliai  y,  made  liy  inflections,  hut  liy  separate  words. 
There  is  no  diiil  niirnlier,  but  in  all  the  dialeirt.s,  so  far  as  examined,  a 
diMtiiii'tiDii  is  made  in  the  |)lural  of  the  first  person,  to  denote  the  inehioion 
or  exclusion  of  the  object.  'I'liere  is  no  disiinction  between  the  pronoun, 
singular  and  plural,  of  the  ihiiil  peison.  The  Lun,'ua<re  has  some  redun- 
diiiK'ies,  which  would  he  pinned  ofF  by  cultivation.  It  has  many  li(|nid 
nnd  l.ii)ial  sounds  It  has  a  soft  How  and  is  easy  of  attainment,  li  is  pc- 
cnliirly  rich  and  varied,  in  its  compoutid  UntuH  for  visibhi  objects,  unJ 
their  uiotions  or  acts.  Streams,  mountains,  vallies,  and  waters,  in  all  their 
variety  of  appearance,  are  graphically  described.  It  is  e(pially  suited  to 
describe  the  phenomena  of  the  heavens,  the  iiir,  tem|)esls,  sounds,  light, 
colouis,  motion,  and  the  various  phases  of  the  eloiid.s  and  planetary  bodies. 
It  is  from  this  dep.iitment,  that  a  large  portion  of  their  poisonal  names  arc 
tal(i  n. 

It  is  true  that  many  of  the  grammatical  principles  of  the  Algon(|uin 
luiguiges,  are  also  developed  in  other  stocks.  Yet  these  stocks  aie  not 
fls  well  known.  It  was  chiefly  in  the  areu  of  ibe.  Algon(pjin  tribes,  that 
tlie  British  and  French,  and  Dutch  and  Swedish  colonists  settled,  and  the 
result  of  eurpiiry,  through  a  long  period,  has  nccnmnlated  most  miittrials 
in  rel.ition  to  this  type  of  the  American  languages.  Specific  nolices  of 
each  of  the  subdivisions  of  this  stock,  will  be  givi'ii  under  the  appiopriate 


names. 


The  general  synonyms  for  this  nation  are  but  fi'w.  The  principal  dif- 
ferences ill  the  -jithography,  between  the  FriMich  and  English  wi iters 
!onsist  ill  liie  l.ittci's  spelliiii.i  ilie  hisi  syliabic  >/ii/ii,  while  the  fiiriner  em- 
ploy /an.  Ill  old  eiicyclopanli.is  and  gazeiti'ers,  the  phrase  Algoiupi  nen- 
sis.  is  used.  'j"he  term  Aberiiaiiiiis.  is  also  a  French  fnodc  of  annotation 
for  the  sime  word,  but  is  rather  ajiplied  at  this  time  to  a  specific  'mid. 
'l"he  word  .\lgic,  deiived  fniii  the  same  root,  has  been  ajiplied  by  tlio 
wiitei  to  till'  entire  circle  of  tiie  .AlgniKpiin  t.ibes,  in  their  iitmo.M  former 
t'.xteiit  ill  Noth  Ameiica.  !Mi'.  (ilallilin  has  pioposul  the  term  '•  Aliioekin- 
IjI'Ii  ipe."  lis  M  pbiiologiciil  (Iciii'iiiiii.ition  for  ibis  important  fiimilv-  'I'lieir 
own  n  im-'  tor  tln'  race,  is  a  ([Wisiioii  of  some  diveisily  ofopiiiioii.  Tiiose 
piiticul.ii  iiibrs,  who  W(>re  loiiii.i  on  the  Allititic  cii.ist  between  tiie  Chesa- 
piMk-liiv  and  till'  llii'lsim.  cilii'd  tlieiiisflves  li'iiiipis.  gi;iieialiv  \\\\\\  the 
prefi.xed  (II  (jii  ilifving  homo  of  l.iiwin,  or  I.rnr.d.  ()l(ier  tribes  e.xtiniiing' 
Dver  tile  I  irgcsi  iiiea  ol  iln'  m.!:i!).  and  el  \]  i'v^li  .America,  inbriliird  by 
(his  stock,  lii'iiati'  ilifi'iseivi'S  .IS  a  rtn',  by  the  li'.''n  Anisliiiiiiba,  lliut  I8,  the 
common  |  ecple. 

'i'he  teim  J,,iii;i|ic,  si',ni.fi(  .V' •!  ;i',i|r,  and    is   idi'ii-lical   in   sens'j  with  the 


i:'- 


I 

ii'  I 


I' 


256 


ETHNOLOGY. 


Algonquin  word  laba.  If  Lcnno,  or  Linno  be,  as  some  contend,  a  term 
denoting  oriifinal,  they  must  bo  conceded  to  liave  had  more  forethought, 
«nd  a  greater  capacity  for  generalization,  than  other  slocks  have  mani- 
Tested,  by  calling  themselves.  Original  Men.  If,  '  owever,  it  only  implies, 
as  others  acquainted  with  tiiia  language,  assert,  rommun  or  gr/irral,  then  it 
there  p(!rceived  to  be  a  perfect  identity  in  the  meaning  of  the  two  terms. 

Aloonap,  a  village  of  the  county  of  St.  Clair,  Michigan,  which  is 
pleasantly  situated  on  the  banks  of  the  river  St  Clair.  It  is  a  term  de- 
rived fioin  the  word  yVlgonqum,  and  a/cf,  earth  or  land. 

Aujo.NQUiNENSis,  a  term  used  in  old  gazetteers  and  geographical  die 

.lonaries,  for  the  Algonqiiins. 

Aliktans,  a  name  for  the  Shoshones,  or  Snake  Indians.     See  letnns, 

Alibamons,  or  AunAMiLS,  ancient  forms  of  orthography  for  the  tribe  of 
the  Alubamas. 

Alin'a,  a  settlement  of  Pinzandarc,  New  Spain,  containing  20  Indian 
families,  who  have  a  commerce  in  maize  and  wa.x. 

Ar.it'KoNcK,  an  Indian  village  which,  in  1G59,  stood  on  the  east  banks 
of  the  river  Hudson,  between  the  influx  of  the  Croton,  then  called  by  the 
Dutch  Saehkill,  and  the  Indian  village  of  Sing  Sing.  [Osin.sing.]  Anee- 
bikong?  place  of  leaves,  or  rich  foliage. 

AtxcA,  an  ancient  province  of  the  kingdom  of  Peru,  south  of  Ciiczo,  in- 
habited by  a  race  of  natives,  who  made  a  vigorous  stand  against  Manco 
Capac,  the  fourth  emperor  of  the  Incas,  and  called  the  conquerur.  In 
this  defence,  they  were  favoured  by  the  rugged  character  of  the  country, 
which  abounds  in  woods,  mountains,  lakes,  and  gold  and  silver  mines. 

Allfoan,  an  agricultural  and  milling  county  of  the  state  of  Michigan, 
bordering  on  the  east  shores  of  lake  Michigan.  It  is  a  derivative  word, 
from  Algonkin,  and  gan  the  penultimate  syllable  of  the  OJjibwa  term 
Sa-gi-e-gan,  a  lake. 

Allkghany,  the  leading  chain  of  mountains  of  the  United  States  east 
of  the  Mississippi,  also  one  of  the  two  principal  sources  of  the  Ohio  river. 
Indian  tradition  attributes  the  origin  of  this  name  to  an  ancient  race  of  In- 
dians who  were  called  Tallegewy,  or  Allegewy.  This  nation,  tradition 
asserts,  had  spread  themselves  east  of  the  Mississippi  and  of  the  Ohio. 
They  were  a  warlike  people,  and  defended  themselves  in  long  and  bloody 
wars,  but  were  overpowered  and  driven  south  by  a  confederacy  of  tribes, 
whose  descendants  still  exist  in  the  Algonquin  and  lioquois  stocks.  Such 
is  the  account  of  the  Delawares. 

Almoi.oia,  a  settlement  of  Zultepec  in  New  Spain,  of  77  Indian  families  j 
ftiSO,  in  Aletepec,  in  the  same  kingdom,  of  156  fumihcs. 


BTRNOLOa-r. 


257 


^  a  term 

tbougbt, 
,1!  mani- 

,/,  then  i> 
•0  terms, 
which  is 
a  term  ile- 

pliical  die 

ee  letnns. 
[lo  iribe  of 

T  20  Indian 

B  ensl  banks 
called  by  the 
sing.l    A-nee- 

„  of  C.iczo,  in- 
.guinst  Manco 
|onq<ievor.     1" 
,f  the  country, 
ilver  mints- 
e  of  Michigan, 
leiivalive  word, 
O.ljibwa  term 

;t,Hl  States  east 
■  the  Ohio  river, 
icient  race  of  In- 

nation,  tradition 
,nd  of  the  Ohio. 

hn<y  and  bloody 
ederacy  of  tribes, 
oisslocUs.     Such 

7  Indian  families-, 


Ai.Mor.or.oATAN,  a  settlement  in  the  district  of  Cohma,  New  Spain,  of 
60  Indian  ramilies. 

Ai.oTKr'w,  ib.  has  67  families. 

At'OZo/.iNCo,  ib.  hns  110  fumilies. 

Ar.piZAOiiA,  ib.  hns  36  families. 

Ai.i'oiFfA,  ib.  hns  42  families.     Another,  same  name,  of  115  families. 

Ai.PoiKf'AZiNGo,  ib.  hns  140  families. 

Af.roNKCA,  ib.  hns  SO  families.     Another,  same  name,  77  families. 

Ai.TAMAiiA,  a  river  of  Georgia. 

A(.roToNOA,  the  name  of  a  settlement  of  Xalapa,  in  New  Spain.  Tho 
word  signifies  in  the  Mexican  language,  hot  nnd  saltish  water,  and  this 
comes  from  the  intermingled  qualities  of  two  streams  which  originate  in 
a  mountain  near  to  each  other,  and  form  by  their  junction  a  river  which 
runs  into  the  lako  of  Alchichica. 

At.zmi,  a  settlement  of  190  Indian  families,  of  Tlapa,  in  Now  Spain, 
or  Mexico.  They  are  industrious,  cultivating  maize,  cotton,  French 
beans  and  rice. 

Almouchico,  the  Indian  name  for  New  England,  on  the  map  of 
"Novi  Belgii,"  published  at  Amsterdam  in  1659. 

Amacachks,  a  nation  of  Indians  of  Brazil,  of  tho  province  of  Rio 
Janiero.  They  inhabit  tho  mountains  south  of  the  city.  They  are 
numerous,  and  much  dreaded,  on  account  of  the  desperate  incursions  they 
have  made  into  the  Portuguese  settlements.  Their  weapons  are  darts, 
and  macanaw,  a  kind  of  club  made  of  a  very  heavy  wood.  They  poison 
their  arrows  and  lances. 

AMAt.iSTEs,  a  band  of  Algonquins,  living  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  and  num- 
bering 500  in  1700. 

Amanalco,  an  Indian  settlement  of  the  district  of  Metepeque,  Mexico, 
of  1224  families. 

Amapaes,  a  barbarous  nation  of  Indians  in  New  Andalusia,  to  the  west 
of  the  river  Orinoco,  near  the  mountains  of  Paria.  They  ape  valiant  and 
hardy ;  sincere  and  faithful  in  their  engagements.  Thoy  live  by  the 
chace  and  by  fishing.  They  make  arms,  which  are  tipped  by  vegetable 
poisons.  They  are  at  war  with  the  Isaperic<.'S.  Theif  territory  is  called, 
after  them,  Amapaya. 

AMAriLCAN,  a  settlement  of  Tlapa,  Mexico,  containing  15  Indian 
families. 

AiMATErrr,  an  Indinn  settlement  of  Znltepcc,  Moxiro,  situated  on  tho 
tot,  of  a  mountain,  cnnsistinfj  of  80  families.  Another  sittlemcnt,  of  the 
same  name,  in  the  district  of  Tollontepec,  has  15  Indians  families.  Both 
have  a  cold  temperature. 

Amaticlan,  a  settlement  of  Huitepec,  in  Mexico,  containing  43  Indian 
families. 


17 


I 


liii.  I 


i5 


I' 


258 


ETHNULOOY. 


Amatinchan,  a  settlement  of  Tlapo,  Mexico,  containing  62  Indian 

fumilies. 

Amati.an,  a  settlement  of  Tanzitnro,  Mexico,  containing  60  Indian 
families.  Another  settlement  of  San  Louis,  has  380  famiiiL'S.  Another, 
.n  the  district  of  Cordova,  has  220.  Another,  in  Zacatlun  248.  Ano- 
ther, in  Cozumaopan  has  150.  All  these  bear  the  same  name,  with  the 
prefix  of  the  dedicatory  patron,  Santa  Ano. 

Amboy,  a  bay  of  New  Jersey.  This  part  of  the  state  was  occupied,  in 
ancient  time,  by  a  tribe  or  band  of  the  Minci,  who  were  called  Suuhi- 
kans. 

Amealco,  a  settlement  of  Querataro,  Mexico,  containing  38  Indian 
families. 

Amf.ca,  a  settlement  of  Autlan,  Mexico,  containing  4^1  Indian  families. 

AMECAMECiv,  a  settlement  of  Chalco,  Mexico,  containing  570  Indian 
families. 

Amec'aque,  a  settlement  of  Calpa,  Mexico,  containing  275  Indian 
families. 

America  ;  .lo  nation  of  Indians  on  this  continent,  had,  so  far  as  we  know, 
ever  generalized  sufficiently  to  bestow  a  generic  name  on  the  continent. 
The  Algonquin  terms  "  Our  Country,"  AmoANUKEyAN,  and  "  Tiie  West," 
Kabean,  were  probably  the  most  comprehensive  which  their  intercourse 
or  ideas  required.  Equivalents  for  these  phrases  might  be,  perhaps,  sue* 
cessfully  sought  among  all  the  most  advanced  tribes.  The  instances  here 
given  are  from  the  Odjibwa  dialect. 

Amicways,  or  Amicawaes,  a  tribe  or  family  of  Indians,  who  are  spoken 
of  by  the  French  writers  as  having  formerly  inhabited  the  Manatonline 
chain  of  islands  in  lake  Huron.  The  term  is  from  Amik,  a  beaver.  The 
Ottowos  settled  here,  after  their  discomfiture,  along  with  the  Adirondacks, 
on  the  St.  Lawrence. 

Amik-emims,  the  group  of  Beaver  islands  of  Lake  Michigan.  The  east- 
ernmost of  this  group  is  called  Amik-aindaud,  or  the  Beaver-house.  These 
islands  are  inhabited  by  Chippewas.  In  1840,  they  numbered  199  souls, 
of  whom  39  were  men,  51  women,  and  109  children.  All  were  engaged 
in  the  chase,  or  in  fishing,  and  none  in  agriculture.  Their  chief  was 
called  Kinwabekizze. 

Amikwucj,  a  wild  roving  nation  northwest  of  the  sources  of  the  Missii^ 
sippi.     See  Beaver  Indians. 

Amilpa,  a  settlement  of  Xochimilco,  in  Mexico,  containing  730  Indian 
families,  who  iive  by  agriculture. 

Amiltepeo,  a  settlement  of  Juquila,  M.,  containing  14  Indian  families. 

Amixocores,  a  barbarous  nation  of  Indians  of  Brazil.  They  inhabit 
the  woods  and  mountams  south  of  Rio  Janerio.  They  are  cruel  and 
treacherous.  They  are  at  continual  war  with  the  Portuguese.  Very  little 
is  known  of  the  territory  they  inhabit,  or  of  their  manners. 


ETHNOLOOT. 


369 


[ndian 

Indian 
.noiher, 
Ano- 
wiih  ihe 

Lipied,  in 
1  Saulii- 

18  Indian 

families. 
70  Indian 

75  Indian 

j9  we  know, 
e  continent. 
The  West," 
intercourse 
perhaps,  sue- 
tstances  here 

lo  are  spoken 
Manatonline 

Ibeaver.   The 
Adirondacks, 

In.     The  easl- 
louse.    These 
red  199  souls, 
J  were  engaged 
Iheir  chief  was 

,  of  the  Missis 

[ing  730  Indian 

Ldian  (amiliea. 
They  inhabit 
are  cruel  and 
Le.  Very  little 


AMMounKAUOEN,  a  name  used  in  1659,  for  the  southern  branch  of  the 
Piscntaqna  river. 

AMor.A,  or  Amiila,  u  jiidiciiil  district  in  CUmdnxnIiira,  Mexico.  In  the 
Mi'xii'im  tnn^iie,  it  signifies  tho  land  of  many  trcns,  as  it  abounds  in  trcca 
The  chiingp  from  o  to  u  in  the  word,  is  deemed  a  corruption. 

AMoi.TKPEt!,  0  settlement  of  Teozaciunico,  Mexico,  containing  90  Indian 
fainilii'S. 

Amon<k)8uck,  an  Indian  name  which  is  borne  by  two  rivers  of  New 
H:iiiipsliire.  Uoth  tuiie  their  rise  in  the  While  Mountains.  Tho  upper 
Amoiioosuck  enters  tho  Connecticut  River,  ot  Northumberland,  near 
upper  Coos.  The  lower,  or  Ornat  Amonoosuck,  enters  tho  same  river 
above  the  town  of  Haverhill,  in  lower  Coos. 

AM()t>o(-AN,  a  settlement  of  Indians  of  Cuyo,  in  Chili,  situated  along  the 
shores  of  a  river. 

Amozaque,  a  settlement  of  Pueblo  de  los  Angelos,  in  a  hot  and  dry  tem- 
perature, containing  586  Indian  families. 

AMroNE.«,  a  barbarous  nation  of  Indians,  in  Paraguay.  They  inhabit 
the  forest  to  the  south  of  the  Rio  de  la  Plata.  They  are  of  small 
stiiture.  They  are  divided  into  several  tribes.  They  are  courageous. 
They  live  on  wild  tropical  fruits,  and  on  fish  which  are  taken  in  certain 
ImIvl'S.  They  preserve  these  by  smoking.  They  enjoy  a  fine  country  and 
dimiite.  They  find  gold  in  the  sand  of  their  rivers,  and  have  some  traffic 
with  the  city  of  Conception.  Some  converts  have  been  made  to  the  Cath 
olic  faith. 

AMirrs,  a  settlement  and  silver  mine  of  San  Luis  de  In  Paz,  in  Mexicc, 
it  has  43  Indian  families,  besides  93  of  Mustees  and  Mullatoes.'  They 
subsist  by  digging  in  the  mines. 

Amurcas,  a  nation  of  barbarous  Indians,  descended  from  the  Panches, 
in  New  Grenada.  They  live  in  the  forests  to  the  south  of  the  river  Mag- 
dalena.     But  little  is  known  of  them. 

Amuskeao,  the  Indian  name  of  a  fall  m  the  river  Merrimack,  New 
Hampshire,  16  miles  below  Concord,  and  7  miles  below  Hookset  falls. 

Ana,  Santa.  Of  the  fifty-five  names  of  places  in  Mexico,  or  New  Spain, 
mentioned  by  Alcedo,  which  bear  this  name,  seven  are  the  seat  of  a  joint 
pnpulation  of  544  Indian  families.  Of  these,  31  are  in  Zaqualpa  ;  117  in 
Zultepec;  124  in  Toluca ;  134  in  Cholula ;  18  in  Yautepec ;  25  in 
Mitia;  70  in  Amaqueca ;  and  149  in  Huehuetlan. 

Anahuac,  the  ancient  Indian  name  of  New  Spain,  or  Mexico.  The 
valley  of  Mexico,  or  Tenochtitlan,  is,  according  to  Humboldt,  situated  in 
the  centre  of  the  cordillera  of  Anahuac.  This  valley  is  of  an  oval  form. 
Its  lentjth  is  19J  leagues,  estimating  from  the  entry  of  the  Rio  Tenango 
into  lake  Chaico  to  the  foot  of  the  Cerro  de  Sincoque,  and  12^  leagues  in 
breadth,  from  St.  Gabriel  to  the  sources  of  the  Rio  de  Escapusalco.  Its 
territorial  extent  is  244^  square  leagues,  of  which  only  22  square  leagues 


260 


ETHNOLOGY. 


i.'l 


i'  1 


:   i 


are  occupied  hj  lakes,  being;  less  tliau  a  tenth  of  the  whole  surrice.  The 
circumference  of  the  valley,  estiinatina;  around  the  crest  of  the  mountains, 
is  G7  leagues  This  crest  is  very  elevated  in  most  parts,  ami  embraces  the 
great  volcanoes  of  La  Puebla,  Popocatepetl,  and  I^tacchihuatl.  There 
are  five  lakes  in  this  valley,  of  which,  that  of  Tezcuco  is  the  largest.  All 
are  much  diminished  in  the  quantity  of  water  they  yield,  since  the  IGth 
century,  which  is  owing,  in  part,  to  the  destruction  of  trees  by  the  Span- 
iards, but  most  directly  to  the  canal  of  Huehuetoco,  cut  through  a  motin- 
taiii,  by  which  the  w-aters  are  drawn  into  the  river  Panuco,  and  thus  find 
their  way  into  the  Atlantic.  By  this  work,  the  city  of  Mexico  itself  was 
freed  from  all  cflects  of  periodical  inundation,  and  the  site  enlarged  and 
rendered  better  suited  to  streets  and  carriages.  The  waters  of  lake  Tez- 
cuco are  impregnated  with  muriate  and  carbonate  of  soda.  Those  of 
Xoch'miico  are  the  most  pure  and  limpid.  Humboldt  found  their  specific 
gravity  to  be  1.0009,  when  distilled  water  at  the  temperature  of  54° 
Fahrenheit,  was  1.000,  and  that  of  Tezcuco  1.0215. 

Of  the  five  lakes  mentioned,  Xochimiico  and  Chalco  contain  Gi  square 
leagues;  Tezcuco,  lOfVi  San  Christoval,  S/jj  and  Zumpango,  1^\. 
The  valley  is  a  basin,  surrounded  by  an  elevated  wall  of  porphyry  moun- 
tains. The  bottom  of  this  basin  is  2,277  metres,  or  7,4G8  feet  above 
the  sea. 

Anai-co,  a  settlement  of  Guadala.xara,  in  Mexico,  conta'ning  40  Indian 
families. 

Anasagumtakook,  a  band  of  the  Abenaki,  on  the  sources  of  the  Andros- 
coggin, in  Maine. 

Anca.makes,  a  nation  of  Indians  inhabiting  the  shores  of  the  river  Ma- 
dera. They  are  very  warlike  and  robust.  In  1G83  they  attacked  the 
Portuguese,  and  compelled  them  to  give  up  the  navigation  of  the  river. 
They  are  divided  into  different  tribes.  The  most  numerous  are  the  Au- 
camares,  who  inhabit  the  shores  of  the  river  Cayari. 

Ancas,  a  nation  of  Indians  in  Peru,  who,  on  the  Gth  January,  1725, 
were  overwhelmed  and  destroyed  by  the  ruins  of  a  mountain  which  burst 
forth  by  an  earthquake.    Fifteen  thousand  souls  perished  on  th, it  occasion, 

Ancio,  or  Hanck's  band  of  Chippewas,  living  at  Point  St.  Ignace,  on 
the  straits  of  Michilimackinac,  in  Michigan.  This  band,  in  IS'IO,  as  do- 
noted  by  the  annuity  pay  rolls,  numbered  103 ;  of  whom,  33  were  men, 
64  women,  and  lOG  children.  They  subsist  in  part  by  liunting  the  small 
furred  animals  still  existing  in  tlic  country,  and  in  part  by  fishing.  They 
migrate  from  place  to  place,  as  the  season  varies,  plant  very  little,  and  are 
addicted  to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits. 

Ancl'itk,  an  island  on  the  southwest  coast  of  FloriJn;  also,  a  river 
flowing  into  the  gulf  at  that  locality,  which  is  also  culled,  in  the  Seminole 
dialect,  the  Est-hns-hotea 


■  TTf V  "^'nf  ■■  V'T 


ETHNOLOGT. 


261 


!.    The 

untains, 
•uces  the 
There 
est.    All 
the  lOih 
ho  Spiin- 
a  moiin- 
thus  find 
itself  was 
iro'eJ  aim 
Like  Tez- 
Those  of 
cir  specific 
ue  of  54° 

1  (jh  sq«fi^e 
[>;ingo,  Wa- 
liyry  moun- 
i  feet  above 

itr  40  Indian 

'.-3 

the  Andros- 

[hc  river  Ma- 
attMcUed  ihe 
of  the  river, 
are  ihc  An- 

Lnimry,  1725, 
1,1  xvhich  hurst 

th.it  occasion. 
I  St.  Ignace,  on 
In  IS'IO,  as  do- 

33  w<re  men, 
litint?  the  small 

fishing.    They 

[.  linle,  and  are 

also,  a  river 
III  the  Seiniuolo 


Anchtkuks,  a  nation  of  infidel  Indians  inhabiting  the  forests  of  the  river 
Napo,  in  Quito.     They  are  numerous,  savage,  treacherous,  and  inconstant. 

A-NDASTis,  a  nation  formerly  inhabiting  the  territory  on  the  southern 
shores  of  luke  Erie,  southwest  of  the  Senecas.  They  were  extirpated  by 
the  Ir  xiuois. 

Andak;  Weos,  or  Crow's  Fi.ksh,  a  hereditary  chief  of  the  Chippewa 
nation,  living  towards  the  close  of  the  last  century  at  the  ancient  Indian 
villiige  of  La  I'ointc  Chogoimegon,  on  lake  Superior.  He  possessed  quali- 
ties, which,  under  a  diiferent  phasis  of  society,  would  have  developed 
themselves  in  marked  acts  of  benevolence.  Numbers  of  anecdotes,  favour- 
able to  his  character,  are  related  of  him,  and  have  been  handed  down  by 
tradition  among  the  French  residents  on  tliat  remote  frontier.  Although 
a  warrior,  engaged  in  frequent  expeditions  against  the  enemies  of  his  tribe, 
he  opposed  the  shedding  of  the  blood  of  white  men  who  were  encountered, 
in  a  defenceless  state,  in  the  pursuits  of  trade.  He  also  resisted  the  plun- 
der of  their  property.  He  had  a  strong  natural  sense  of  justice,  accom- 
panied with  moral  energy,  and  gave  utterance  to  elevated  and  ennobling 
sentiments  in  his  intercourse. 

ANniiKAP,  San.  A  settlement  of  Texupiico,  in  Mexico,  containing  77 
Indian  families  ;  another  of  Toluco,  of  184  ;  another  in  TIatotepec,  of  33; 
another  in  Tuxtla,  of  1170;  another  in  Guejozingo,  of  15;  another  in 
Papalolepec,  of  20;  another  in  Hiscoutepec,  of  G8;  another  in  Tepehua- 
can,  of  40;  all  under  the  same  dedicatory  name. 

An[)uo!<coucin,  the  main  western  source  of  the  river  Kennebec,  m 
Maine. 

Angaoua,  Santiago  De  ;  a  settlement  of  Valladolid,  Mexico,  containing 
22  Indian  families. 

A.NGAMocuTino,  a  Settlement  of  the  same  district  with  the  preceding,  con- 
taining lOG  Indian  families. 

A^■c.ARAI:l?,  a  province  of  Peru,  containing  six  curacies  or  parishes  of 
Indiiins. 

Angixrs,  Puebla  Dk  Los,  the  capltol  of  the  province  of  TIaxcala,  in  New 
Spain,  or  Mexico,  founded  in  I-'jS.S.  The  entire  number  of  Indian  fami- 
lies within  this  important  jurisdiction  is  3,200,  which,  at  tlie  ordinary  rate 
of  the  estimation  of  Indian  population  here,  that  is,  five  souls  to  a  family, 
gives  an  aggregate  of  1G,000.  These  are  descendants  of  the  ancient 
Azteers,  who  inhabited  the  country  on  its  conquest. 

Tiiis  is,  however,  but  the  population  of  the  chief  town  or  capital.  The 
entire  inteiidency  of  Pueblos  de  los  Angeles  contained,  in  1793,  5li8,098 
.souls.  Of  this  number,  373,752  were  Indians  of  pure  blood,  divided  into 
187,531  males,  and  180,221  females.  There  were  also  77,003  of  the 
mixid  race,  divided  into  37,318  males,  and  40,r,90  females.  But  54,980 
were  Spaniards,  or  whites,  exclusive  of  585  secuhr  ecclesiastics,  446 
monks,  and  427  nuns. 


iwma 


W 


\>  ( 


if-'i. 

■Vn 


iimrtwiiiiwiuim 


ETHNOLOaY. 


i     ; 


i!     . 


hh  :|i 


This  preponderance  of  the  native  Indian  population  is  still  more  strik 
ing  in  the  government  of  Uaxcalu,  which,  of  course,  includes  the  capital 
above  named.  In  1793,  it  contained  a  population  of  59,177  souls;  of 
which,  42,878  were  Indians,  divided  into  21,849  males,  and  21,029 
females.  The  town  is  governed  by  a  Caciqiio,  and  four  Indian  Alcaldes, 
who  represent  the  ancient  heads  of  the  four  quarters,  still  called  Tc^epecti- 
pac,  Ocotelalco,  (iuiahtnitztlan,  and  Tizatlan.  By  virtue  of  a  royal  cedula 
of  IGth  April,  158j,  the  whites  have  no  seat  in  the  municipality.  The 
Cacique,  or  Indian  Governor,  enjoys  the  honors  of  an  alfcnz  real.  Not- 
withstanding the  zeal  of  a  Spanish  intendant  general,  the  progress  of  the 
inhabitants  in  industry  and  prosperity  has  been  extremely  slow.  The  se- 
cret of  this  is,  perhaps,  revealed  in  the  fact  that  four  fifths  of  the  whole 
property  belongs  to  mort-main  proprietors,  that  is  to  say,  to  commnnit;.es 
of  monks,  to  chapters,  corporations,  and  hospitals.  Their  trade  is  also  de- 
pressed by  the  enormous  price  of  carriage  from  the  table  lands,  and  the 
want  of  beasts  of  burden. 

The  geology  and  antiquities  of  this  part  of  Mexico,  are  equally  interest- 
ing. The  intendency  of  Puebla  is  traversed  by  the  high  Cordilleras  of 
Anahuac,  which,  beyond  the  18th  degree  of  latitude,  spreads  into  a  plain, 
elevated  from  1,800  to  2,000  metres  above  the  level  of  the  ocean,  or  from 
5,905  to  6.5G1  feet.  In  this  intendency  is  also  the  Popocatepetl,  the  high 
est  mountain  in  Mexico.  Humboldt's  measurement  of  this  volcano  make^ 
it  600  metres  (1,9GS  feet,)  higher  than  the  most  elevated  summit  of  the 
old  continent.  It  is,  indeed,  only  exceeded  between  Panama  and  Behring's 
Straits,  by  Mt.  St.  Elias. 

The  table  land  of  Puebla  exhibits  remarkable  vestiges  of  ancient  civn 
ization.  The  fortifications  of  Tlaxcala  are  posterior  in  the  date  of  then 
construction  to  the  great  pyramid  of  Cholula.  This  pyramid,  or  teocalh, 
is  the  most  stupendous  monument  erected  by  the  race.  Its  squares  art 
arranged  in  exact  accordance  with  the  astronomical  parallels.  It  is  cori 
structed  in  stages  or  terraces,  the  highest  of  which  is  177  feet  above  tht 
plain.  It  has  a  base  of  1423  feet.  By  a  passage  excavated  into  the  norn 
side  of  it,  a  few  years  ago,  it  is  found  to  be  solid,  and  to  consist  of  alternait 
layers  of  brick  and  clay.  Its  centre  has  not,  however,  been  reached  It- 
height  e.xceeds  the  third  of  the  great  Egyptian  pyramids  of  the  group  oi 
Ghiza.  In  its  base,  however,  it  e.xceeds  that  of  all  other  edifices  found  by 
travellers  in  the  old  continent ;  it  is  almost  double  that  of  the  great  pyra- 
mid of  Cheops.  To  conceive  of  the  vastness  of  the  structure,  let  the  tra- 
veller imagine  a  square  four  times  the  size  of  the  Place  Vendome,  piled 
up  with  brick,  in  terraces,  twice  the  utmost  height  of  the  palace  of  the 
Louvre. 

The  Indians  of  the  province  of  Tlaxcala  speak  three  languages,  differ- 
ing from  one  another,  namely;  the  Mexican,  Totonac,  and  Tlapanac. 
The  first  is  peculiar  to  the  inhabitants  of  Puebla,  Cholula,  and  Tlascalla ; 


ETHNOLOGY. 


e  strik 


mis ; 


of 


I'ociU'Cl'- 

ty.     'l"l>e 
■al.     Not- 
ess  of  the 
The  se- 
tlje  whole 

>  is  also  Je- 
.ds,  anil  the 

lily  interest- 
jrdiUeras  of 
into  a  plain, 


ean,  ov 


t'vom 


,t.il,  the  hioh 

olcano  makes- 

ummit  of  the 

nd  Behi-ing'^ 

ancient  civn 

date  of  then 
,id,  or  teocalh. 
Its  squares  nr* 

Is.     It  >s  '^"" 
I  feet  above  tht 
into  the  noni 
List  of  allernai. 
In  reached     l'^ 
If  the  group  d 
[\itices  found  by 
the  i^reat  pyra- 
tnre,  let  the  tra- 
Ven'Aoine,  piled 
[o  palace  of  the 

luvnia-es,  tlitfer- 

I  an<lTlascalla; 


the  secona  to  the  inhabitants  of  Zacatlan ;  and  the  third  is  preserved  in 
the  environs  of  Tlapa.  The  population  of  the  entire  intendency  of  Pue« 
bia,  in  1803,  that  is,  ten  years  after  the  census  above  noted,  had  advanced 
to  813,301)  in  an  extent  of  2,G'J6  square  leagues,  giving  301  inhahitanls  to 
the  square  league.  Small  as  thic  may  appear,  it  is  four  times  greater  than 
that  of  Sweden,  and  nearly  equal  lo  that  of  the  Kingdom  of  Arragon. 

Aniaijs,  a  barbarous  nation  of  South  American  Indians,  in  the  llanos 
of  Casanare  and  Meta,  in  the  new  kingdom  of  Grenada.  They  arc  de- 
scended from  the  Betoyes.  They  are  very  numerous,  and  of  a  gentle 
nature.     The  Jesuits  established  a  mission  among  them  in  172?.. 

Anxaciois,  or  Annacous,  a  barbarous  nation  of  Indians,  of  the  province 
of  Puerto  Seguro,  in  Brazil.  They  inhabit  the  woods  and  mountains  to 
the  west,  and  near  the  rivers  Grande  and  Yucara.  They  are  in  a  con- 
stant state  of  warfare,  night  and  day.  7'hey  are  irreconcileable  enemies 
of  the  Portuguese,  whose  colonies  and  cultivated  lands  they  continually 
infest,  and  which  they  destroyed  in  1687. 

ANNiiMosiNG,  the  name  of  the  Ottowas,  and  Chippcwas,  for  the  Fox 
Islands,  of  lake  Michigan.  It  is  derived  of  Annemose,  a  young  dog  or 
fox,  and  iiig,  a  particio  denoting  place,  or  locality. 

Annemikeens,  a  Chippewa  hunter  of  Red  River,  in  Hudson's  bay, 
who  survived  a  conflict  with  a  grisly  bear.  After  being  terribly  lacerated, 
in  his  face  and  limlu,  hut  not  deprived  of  consciousness,  he  affected  death. 
The  animal  then  sejzed  him  gently  by  the  neck,  and  dragged  him  to  a 
thicket,  where  he  was  left,  as  it  was  thought,  to  be  eaten  when  the  calls 
of  hunger  shonid  demand.  From  this  position  he  arose,  first  setting  up, 
and  binding  paica  of  his  lacerated  flesh  down,  and  afterwards  rose,  and 
succeeded  in  reaching  his  wigwam,  whfr  by  skill  in  the  use  of  svnples, 
his  wounds  were  entirely  healed.  The  '•.■  me  signifies  little  thunder,  be- 
ing a  compound  from  Annimikee,  thunder,  u'  d  the  diminutive  inflection 
in  us. 

Annutteligo,  a  hammock  brought  f)  notice  in  the  late  war  with  the 
Scminoles,  in  Florida.     It  is  situated  eabt  of  the  Withlacooche  river. 

A.NGLAiMA,  a  settlement  of  locai.n',  in  New  Gii-.n  ida,  containing  a 
small,  but  indefinite  population  of  Jii  JiaiP. 

Antai.is,  a  barbarous  and  warlikt-  nation  of  Indians,  \r,  tie  kingdom 
of  Chile,  to  the  west  of  Coquimbo.  They  valorously  opposed  the  pro- 
gress of  the  Inca  Yupanqui,  corn|ielling  him,  in  the  end,  to  terminate 
his  conquests  on  the  other  side  of  the  river  IMaule,  the  last  boundary  of 
Peru. 

ANTiQnTii'R.     See  the  articles  Grave   Treek,  MaiTini;-*,  Circleville,  &c 

Antiionv  St.  ;  the  falls  of,  being  the  fourth  and  lowermost  of  the  per- 
pendicular, or  prominent  falls  of  the  Mi^'sissippi.  and  by  f^'"  the  greatest, 

The  first  fall  of  this  stream  is  the  Kakabika,  situated  :i*out  half  a  day's 
journey  below  Itasca  lake  ;  the  second  is  called  I'ukagama,  and  occurs  be 


s!! 


!■  '  'I 


864 


ETHNOLOGY. 


H 


ii   ! 


low  the  influx  of  the  Leech  lake  branch.  The  third  is  below  Elk  river 
and  is  passable  in  boats  and  canoes.  St.  Anthony's  is  the  most  consider 
nble  of  the  series,  and  the  only  one  which  presents  an  abrupt  plunge  of 
the  stream  from  horizontal  rocks.  They  were  thus  named  by  Hennepin, 
about  1680.  By  the  Dacotah  Indians,  who  inhabit  the  country,  they  are 
called  Haha.  It  is  at  this  point,  that  the  Mississippi,  which  gathers  its 
waters  from  high  table  lands,  and  has  its  course,  for  several  hundreds  of 
miles,  through  diluvions  superimposed  on  the  primitive,  first  plunges  ioto 
the  great  secondary  formation.  For  more  than  a  thousand  miles,  in  its 
way  southward,  its  banks  are  rendered  imposing  and  precipitous  by  this 
formation.  At  or  near  the  Grand  Tower,  and  its  adjunct  precipice,  on  the 
Missouri  shore,  this  formation  cease.«,  and  the  river  enters  the  great  delta, 
which  still  confines  it,  for  a  like  distance,  before  it  e.xpands  itself,  by  its 
bifurcations,  and  final  exit,  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  at  the  Balize. 

Antonio,  San.  The  following  statistical  facts,  denote  the  Indian  popu- 
lation, of  sundry  settlements,  bearing  this  name,  within  the  former  govern- 
ment of  New  Spain,  now  Mexico.  In  the  limits  of  Tollman,  32  families; 
in  Tumpolomon,  128  ;  in  Toluca  51;  in  Metepec  2G1  ;  in  Coronango, 
44;  in  Iluchuctlan,  140;  in  Chapala,  27. 

Apacahund,  or  WiiiTi:  Eves,  a  Delaware  chief  of  note,  of  the  era  of 
the  American  revolution,  who  is  frequently  mentioned  in  documents  of 
the  times. 

Ataces,  San  Ji'an  Bautista  De,  a  settlement  of  Zelaga  in  the  province 
and  bishopric  of  Mechoacan,  containing  135  Indinn  families.  Another 
settlement,  cf  the  same  name,  with  the  dedicatory  title  of  Santa  Maria,  in 
the  district  of  Zitaguaro,  contains  24  families. 

Apaches,  a  nation  of  Indians,  located  between  the  Rio  del  Norto  and  the 
sources  of  the  Nuaces,  who  were  reportfd,  in  1817,  at  3,5U0.  In  ar. 
official  report  submitted  to  Congress,  in  1837,  their  numbers  ''within 
striking  distance  of  the  western  frontier,"  are  vaguely    put  at,  20,280. 


w 


;  I 


k  river 
onsiJer 
inge  oi 
jnnepin, 
they  are 
ithers  its 
ilreds  of 
ngcs  iiito 
les,  >i>  >l* 
lis  by  this 
ice,  on  the 
;reat  delta, 
!self,  by  its 

idian  popu- 
ner  gnvcrn- 
ji  families ; 
Covonaiigo, 

,f  the  era  of 
ucumciils  of 

the  province 
Ls.  AnolhT 
nta  Maria,  in 


orto  and  the 
00.     In  ar. 

„HS  "  within 
ut  at,  20,280. 


U^ 


APALLACHfANS  ;  a  nation  of  Indians  who  formerly  inhabited  the  ex- 
treme southern  portion  of  the  United  States,  and  iiavc  left  their  name  in 
die  leading  range  of  the  Apallachian  mountains.  In  1539  De  Soto  found 
ihem  in  Florida,  a  term  at  that  era  comprehending  also  the  entire  area  of 
the  present  states  of  Alabama,  I\!ississij)pi,  Louisiana,  and  other  portions 
of  the  southern  territory.  They  were  numerous,  fierce,  and  valorous. 
They  were  clothed  in  the  skins  of  wild  beasts.  They  u.sed  bows  and 
arrows,  clubs  and  spears.  They  did  not,  as  many  nations  of  barbarians  do, 
poison  their  darts.  They  were  temperate,  drinking  only  water.  They 
did  not  niake  wars  on  slight  pretences,  or  for  avarice,  but  to  repress  at- 
tacks, or  remedy  injustice.  They  treated  their  prisoners  with  humanity, 
and  like  other  persons  of  their  households.  They  were  long  lived,  some 
persons  reaching  a  hundred  years.  They  worshipped  the  sun,  to  which 
they  sang  hymns,  morning  and  evening.  These  facts  are  to  be  gleaned 
from  the  narrative.  What  were  their  numbers,  how  far  they  extended 
•heir  jurisdiction,  what  were  their  affiliations  by  language,  customs,  and 
institutions  with  other  tribes,  cannot  be  accurately  decided.  Much  that 
is  said  of  their  civil  and  military  polity,  building.s,  ceremonies  and  other 
traits,  applies  to  the  Floridiun  Indians  generally,  and  may  be  dismissed  as 
either  vague,  or  not  characteristic  of  the  Appalachians.  A  quarto  vol- 
ume was  published  in  London  in  IGGG,  by  John  Davics,  under  the  title 
of  a  "  History  of  the  Caribby  Indians,"  in  which  he  traces  the  caribs  of 
the  northern  groups  of  the  West  Indies,  to  the  ApiiUachians,  and  relates 
many  incidents,  and  narrates  a  series  of  surprising  wars  and  battles, 
reaching,  in  their  effects,  through  the  Mississippi  valley  up  to  the  great 
lakes,  which  have  the  appearance  of  fable.  How  much  of  this  account, 
which  speaks  of  "  cattle"  and  "  herds,"  may  be  grafted  on  ancient  tra- 
ditions, it  is  impossible  to  tell.  There  are  some  proofs  of  such  an  an- 
cient civilisation  in  the  Ohio  valley  and  other  sections  of  the  country,  but 
they  are  unconnected  with  any  Indian  traditions,  which  have  survived, 
unless  we  consider  the  mounds  and  remains  of  antique  forts  as  monu- 
mental evidences  of  these  reputed  wars.  The  Lenapee  accourits  of  these 
ancient  wars  with  the  Tallagees  or  Allegewy,  may  be  thought  to  refer  to 
this  ancient  people,  who  had,  if  this  conjecture  be  correct,  extended 
their  dominion  to  the  middle  and  northern  latitudes  of  the  present  area 
of  the  United  States,  prior  to  tin;  appearance  of  the  Algonquin  and  Iro 
quies  races.  Mr.  Irving  has  suiru;esleii  tli(!  name  of  Apallachia,  or  Alle 
gunia,  derived  from  the  sloek,  for  this  division  of  the  continent. 


II , 


265 


i^oMaaMhi 


P- j|(«l 


: 


H    7\     :m 


LANGUAGE. 


LECTURES  ON  THE  GRAMMATICAL  STRUCTL  RE 

OF  THE  INDIAN  LANCJUAGE. 

The  course  of  lectures,  of  which  the  following  are  part,  were  delivertti 
before  the  St.  Mary's  committee  of  the  Algic  Sociity.  Two  of  them  only 
have  been  published.  They  are  here  continued  from  the  aiticle  "  Indimi 
Languages,"  at  page  202  of  the  "Narnilive  of  tlie  Discovery  of  the  actual 
Source  of  the  Mississippi,  in  Itascc  Tjalce,"  published  by  the  Harjieis,  in 
1834.  The  family  of  languag''s  Si.-locted  as  the  topic  of  inquiry,  is  the 
Algonquin.  All  the  examples  employed  are  drawn  from  that  particular 
typo  of  it  which  is  called  Chippewa,  in  our  transactions  with  them,  but 
which  they  uniformly  pronounce  theniM  Ives,  Od-jib-wa.  'J'hese  terms 
are  employed  a."  perfect  synonyms.  The  phrase  ■' Odjibwa-Algonquin," 
wherever  it  occurs,  is  intended  to  link,  in  the  mind  of  the  itKiiiirer.  the 
species  and  the  genus  (if  we  may  borrow  a  term  fiom  natural  history)  of 
the  language,  but  is  not  fraught  with,  or  intended  to  convey,  any  additional 
idea.     The  three  terms  '•f-lnte  to  one  and  the  same  people. 


LECTURE    III. 


Obspfvalioim  on  itio  Ailjeclive — It.s  (listin:.'lioii  info  two  clu-ssrs  donotrd  liy  tlip  prpsonre 
or  ubsciieo  of  vitality — E.vaniplrs  of  tin;  nniiiiatrs  and  iriaiiiiiiate.s — Mode  of  tliiir 
coiivfrsion  iiitosiibstuiitivcs — IIow  pronouns  aro  applied  lo  llirse  derivatives,  and  tlin 
manner  of  forming  onmponnd  terms  from  adjective  bases,  fo  describe  the  varions  natu- 
ral pliinoinina — 'I'lie  application  of  llicfe  principles  in  common  conversation,  and  ni 
the  dese'ljHiDn  of  natnral  and  artificial  objects — Adjectives  always  preserve  the  dis- 
tinction of  nnnd)er — Numural.s — Arithmetical  capacity  of  the  language — The  unit 
exists  '■   duplicate. 

1.  It  iias  been  ror;  arked  that  the  distinction  of  words  into  animates  and 
inanimates,  is  a  p; in  iple  intimately  interwoven  throughout  the  structurt 
of  the  lantiuage.  It  is,  in  fact,  so  deeply  imprinted  iqxin  its  graiTunaticai 
forms,  ami  is  so  perpetually  recurring,  that  it  may  be  looked  upon,  not 
oniy  as  forming  a  striking  peculiarity  of  the  language,  but  as  constituting 
the  fundamental  principle  of  iis  structure,  from  which  all  other  rules  have 
derived  their  limits,  and  to  which  they  have  been  made  to  conform.  No 
class  of  words  aj^peais  to  have  escaped  its  impress.     Whatever  concords 

2()(j 


t!l 


7i  -  ■•^:l 
'■•itf,''..iJi 


I  UK 


tU'livcriii 
liem  only 
I  "  liuliiiii 
the  iiclual 
iDipeis,  in 
liiy.  is  li>e 

jr.irtiiMilar 
I  thcut.  but 
liese  tfiins 
ilironciii'm," 
iKluiitr.  tlifi 

history)  of 
ly  adilitionul 


\,v  the  vrcsnirn 
-Moilo  of  tlii'it 
viilives.  ami  tll«^ 
various  natn- 
oisaliDii,  »"<!  in 
|,ns.rv.'  tl>P  *1'^- 
,r,.g(— The  unit 

niunwt.'S  niiA 
ih(>  stiMicturt 

\i,rA  vipon,  not 
•,s  coi\>litiUiiii^ 

thcr  rvili'?  Ii'^^'" 
.•on  form.     No 
lU'vov  conoorus 
'2(i6 


1^  t; 


LANGUAGE. 


267 


Other  laws  impose,  they  all  agree,  and  arc  made  subservient  in  the  estab* 
lishment  of  this. 

It  might  Jippeur  to  be  a  useless  distinction  in  the  adjective,  when  the 
substantive  is  tiiiis  nniiked  ;  but  it  will  be  rocoliectL-d  that  it  is  in  the 
plural  of  the  substantive  only,  that  the  distinction  is  marked.  And  we 
shall  presently  have  occasion  to  show,  that  redundancy  of  forms,  are,  to 
considerable  extent,  obviated  in  practice. 

For  the  origin  of  the  principle  itself,  we  need  lookoniy  to  nature,  which  en- 
dows animate  bodies  with  animate  properties  and  rjualitios,  and  vice  versa. 
But  it  is  due  tothclribcs  wiio  speak  this  language,  to  have  in  verited  one  set  of 
adjective  symbols  to  express  the  ideas  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  former, 
and  another  set  applicable,  exclusively,  to  the  latter;  and  to  have  given 
the  words  good  and  bad,  black  and  white,  great  and  small,  handsome  and 
ugly,  such  modifications  as  arc  practically  competent  to  indicate  the  ge- 
neral nature  of  the  objtjcts  referred  to,  whether  provided  with,  or  destitute 
of  the  vital  principle.  And  not  only  so,  but  by  the  figurative  use  of 
these  forms,  to  exalt  inanimate  masses  into  the  class  of  living  beings,  or 
to  strip  the  latter  of  the  properties  of  life — a  principle  of  much  importance 
to  their  p\iblic  speakers. 

This  distinction  is  shown  in  the  following  examples,  in  which  it  will  be 
observed,  that  the  inflection  izzi,  generally  denotes  the  personal,  and  a» 
urt,  or  icud,  the  impersonal  forms. 


Adj 

Inaniiiuitc. 

Adj:  Animate. 

Bad 

Monaud 

ud 

Monaud 

izzi. 

Ugly 

Gushkoonaug 

vvud 

Gushkoonaug 

oozzi 

Beautiful 

Bishegaindaug 

wud 

Bishegaindaug 

oozzi. 

Strong 

Song 

ua 

Sftng 

izzi. 

Soft 

Nok 

un 

Nok 

izzi. 

Hard 

Mushkow 

au 

Mushkow 

izzi. 

Smooth 

Shoiskw 

au 

Shoisk 

oozzi. 

Black 

Mukkuddiiw 

au 

Mukkuddiiw 

izzi. 

White 

Waubishk 

au 

Waubishk 

izzi. 

Yellow 

Ozahw 

au 

Ozahw 

izzi. 

Red 

Mi>kw 

au 

Miskw 

izzi. 

Blue 

Ozhahwushkw 

au 

Ozhahwushkw 

izzi. 

Sour 

Sheew 

un 

Sheew 

izzi. 

Sweet 

Weeshkob 

un 

Weeshkob 

izzi. 

Light 

Naung 

un 

Naung 

izzi. 

It  is  not,  however,  in  all  cases,  by  mere  modifications  of  the  adjective 
tliat  these  distinctions  are  e.vpressed.  Words  totally  different  in  sound, 
and  cvidi  (itly  derived  from  radically  dilTercnt  roots,  are,  in  some  few  instan- 
ces, employed,  as  in  the  following  exampkis  : 


"im 


'Jv- 


i 


uf\ 


■^kt^-'^fT 


I 


268 


'Ij      ! 


Good 

Bud 

Large 

Small 

Old 


LANGUAGE. 

Adj :  Inaniinate. 
Oiiislieshia 
Monaudud 
MitNlmu 
Pungee 


Adj:  Animate. 
Minno. 
Miuljee. 
Mindiddo. 
Uggiiushi. 
Citizzi. 


GeckaiJ 

It  may  be  remarked  of  these  forms,  that  altiiongh  tiie  impersonal  will,  in 
some  instances,  take  the  pcisona!  inflections,  the  rule  is  not  reciprocated, and 
minno,  and  mindiddo,  and  i^itizzi,  and  all  words  similarly  situated,  remain 
uiH'hangeahly  animates,  The  word  pnngee,  is  limited  to  the  expression 
of  quantity,  and  its  correspondent  nggaushi,  to  size,  or  quality,  Kishc 
dii,  (hot)  is  restricted  to  the  heat  of  a  fire  ;  keezliatitii,  to  the  heat  of  the 
sun.  There  is  still  a  tliiid  term  to  indicate  (he  natural  heat  of  the  body, 
Kizzlzoo.  Mitshau  (larg( )  is  generally  applied  to  countries,  lakes,  riv- 
ers, «Sic.  Mindiildo,  to  the  body,  and  gitshee,  indiscriminately,  Onishi- 
shin,  and  its  correspondent  onishishshii,  signify,  handsome  or  fair,  as  well 
as  good.  Kw(inau;lj  a.  a.  an  1  kwonau.lj  ewun  a.  i,  mean,  strictly,  hand- 
some, and  imply  nothing  further.  Mirnio,  is  the  ap|)ropriate  personal 
form  for  good.  Miidgce  and  monaudud,  may  reciprocally  change  gen- 
ders, ilie  lii,-^!  by  the  additiim  of  i-d-c,  and  the  second  by  altering  i«^  to 
izzi. 

Distinctions  of  this  kind  are  of  considerable  importance  in  a  practical 
point  of  view,  and  their  observance  or  neglect,  are  noticed  with  scrupulous 
exactness  by  the  Iiuliaiis.  7'ho  want  of  inanimate  forms  to  such  words  ns 
haj)py,  sorrowful,  brave, sick  dec.  creates  no  confusion;  as  inanimate  nouns 
cannot,  strictly  speaking,  take  upon  themselves  such  qualities,  and  when 
they  do — as  they  sometimes  do,  by  one  of  those  extravagant  figures  of 
speech,  which  are  used  in  their  tales  of  transformations,  the  animate  forms 
answer  all  purjitses.  Fur  in  these  tales  the  whole  material  creation  may 
be  clothed  with  animation.  The  rule,  as  exhibited  in  practice,  is  limited, 
with  suflicient  accuracy,  to. the  boundaries  prescribed  by  nature. 

To  avoid  a  repetition  of  forms,  were  the  noun  and  the  adjective  both  to 
be  employed  in  their  usual  relation,  the  latter  is  endowed  with  a  pronomi- 
nal, or  substantive  inflection.  And  the  use  of  the  noun,  in  its  separate 
form,  is  thus  wholly  superceded.  Thus  onishishin,  a.  i.  and  onishishsha, 
a.  a.  become  Wanishishing,  that  which  is  gooJ,  or  fiir,  and  Wanish- 
ishid,  he  who  is  good  or  fiir.  The  following  e.xamples  will  exhibit  this 
rule,  under  each  of  its  forms. 

Compound  or  Noun-Adjective  Animate, 
Black  Mukkuddaw  izzi  Makuddaw  izzid. 

White  Waubishk      izzi  Wyaubishk  izzid. 

Yellow  Ozahw  izzi  Wazauw      i//id. 

Red  Miskw  izzi  Mashk       oozzid. 

Strong  Song  izzi  Song  izzid, 


il  will,  in 

J,  remain 
xpvession 

Kishc 
cat  of  the 
the  body, 
lakes,  riv- 

Oiiishi- 

nil-,  as  well 

cily,  lia'^'i- 
ic  personal 

hange  gen- 

leiing  ud' '» 

,1  ji  practical 
1  scrupulous 
,ch  words  ns 
iinate  nouns 
s,  and  when 
ui  figures  of 
uimatc  forms 
creation  may 
:e,  is  limited, 
ure. 

iuctive  both  to 
th  a  pronomi- 
in  its  separate 

I  onishishsha, 
and  Wanish- 

II  exhibit  this 


izzid. 

|lv  i/zii- 
i//.id. 

I  oozzid. 
izzi<l- 


369 


LANGUAGE. 

Noun-Adjective  Inanimate. 

Bio^fc.  Mukku.lduw  au  Mukkuddtlw  aug. 

Whit(j  Waubislik      au  Wyaubishk  aug. 

Yellow  Ozahw  au  Wiizliauw  uug. 

Red  Mishkw  au  Miahkw  aug. 

The  animat*  lij.vus  in  these  examples  will  be  recognized,  as  exhibiting 
a  further  extension  of  the  rule,  mentioned  in  the  pieceding  chapter,  by 
which  substantives  aie  formed  from  the  indicalive  of  the  verb  by  a  permu- 
tation of  the  von'eis.  And  these  fijrms  ure  likewise  rendered  plural  in 
the  manner  there  mentioned.  They  also  undergo  changes  to  indicate  tho 
various  persons.  For  instance  onishisha  is  thus  declined  to  mark  tho 
person. 

Wiinishish-eyaun  I  (am)  good,  or  fair. 

Wiiiiishisheyun  Thou  (an)  good,  or  fair. 

Wunishishid  He  (is)  good  or  fair. 

Wuiiishish-eyang  We  (are)  good  or  fair  (ex.) 

Wilnis!iish-eyung  We  (are)  good  a  fair  (in.) 

Wiinishisheyaig  Ye  (are)  good  or  fair. 

Wanisbish-idigj  They  (are)  good  or  fair. 

The  inanimate  forms,  being  without  person,  are  simply  rendered  plural 
by  in,  cliann;ing  maiskwaut,',  to  maiskwaU3;-in,  &c.  &c.  The  verbal  sig- 
nification which  these  forms  assume,  as  indicated  in  the  words  am,  art,  is, 
are,  is  to  be  sought  in  the  pcrmututive  change  of  the  fust  syllable.  Thus 
0  is  changed  to  wft,  muk  to  mak,  waub  to  wy-aub,  ozau  to  wazau,  misk 
to  maisk,  &c.  The  pronoun,  as  is  usual  in  the  double  compounds,  is 
formed  wholly  by  the  inflections  eyaun,  cyun,  <Stc. 

The  strong  tendency  of  the  adjective  to  assume  a  pcrsorial,  oi  pronom- 
ico  substantive  form,  leads  to  the  employment  of  many  words  in  a  par- 
ticular, or  exclusive  sense.  And  in  any  future  practical  attempts  with  the 
Linguage,  it  wili  be  found  greatly  to  facilitate  its  acquisition  if  the  adjec- 
tives arc  amiigcd  in  distinct  classes,  separated  by  this  characteristic  prin- 
ciple of  tlicir  applicition.  The  examples  we  have  given  are  chiefly  those 
whii'h  mny  be  considered  strictly  animate,  or  inanimate,  admit  of  double 
forms,  and  arc  of  general  use.  Mnny  of  the  examples  recorded  in  the 
original  iiianiiscripts  employed  in  these  lectures,  are  of  a  more  concrete 
character,  and,  at  tho  simc  lime,  a  more  limited  use.  Thus  shaugwcwc, 
is  a  weak  person,  nokangumine,  a  weak  dniilc.  nokangwud,  a  weak,  or 
soft  piece  of  wood.  Sussag;iu,  is  line,  but  can  only  be  applied  to  per- 
sonal appearance:  l)pcsau,  indicates  fine  grains.  Keewiishkwa  is  giddy, 
and  keewnslikwilbee,  giddy  with  drink,  both  being  restricted  to  the  third 
person.  Sangun  and  songi/Tzi,  are  the  jierson.il  and  impersonal  forms  of 
strong,  as  given  above.  13ut  Mushkowangimime,  is  strong  drink.  In 
Lke  manner  the  two  words  for  hard,  as  above,  are  restricted  to  solid  sulj* 


I 


>i 


mmimum 


270 


LANGUAGE. 


stiiticrs.  Siinnuheml  is  Imnl  (to  endiiro,)  wainHiid,  is  rnsy  (to  perform.) 
Songcdiiu  is  hravc,  Shiiugciliiii  cownrilly,  luc/liiiizhowiz/i,  nctive,  kizhe- 
kmi,  xuift,  oniuincgoo/zi  lively,  iiiinwainduiii  Imppy,  gufihkwainilnin,  sor- 
rowful, l)Ut  nil  tlii'so  forms  are  confined  to  tlw  tinrd  person  of  the  indica- 
tive, sitiLinhir.  Pibliigwan,  is  a  rough  or  !;iioa<^d  siibstiince.  Pubbiggo- 
ozzi,  a  roiiirli  person.  Keenwau  is  long,  oi  tall,  (any  solid  mass  )  Kny- 
nozid  ia  a  tall  person.  Tahkozid  a  short  person.  Wassa yau  is  light ; 
wassaiibizzoo,  the  light  of  the  eye;  wnsshnuzhii,  the  light  of  a  star,  or  uny 
luminous  body.  Keenau  is  sharp,  keenauli.  id,  a  sharp  kni'"'),  or  stone. 
Keezhanbikcday,  is  hot  metal, a  hot  stove,  &-c.  Keezhaiigumineda,  is  hot 
water.  AiibudgeetiJn,  is  useful, — a  useful  thing.  Wauweeug  is  frivolous, 
any  thing  frivolous  in  word,  or  deed.  Tubbushisb,  appears  to  be  a  gene- 
ral term  for  low.  Ishpimming  is  high  in  the  air.  Ishpau,  is  applied  to 
any  high  fixture,  as  a  house,  Sec.  Ishpuubikau  is  u  high  rock.  Tuush- 
kaubikau,  a  split  rock. 

These  combinations  and  limitations  meet  the  inquirer  at  every  step. 
They  are  the  current  phrases  of  the  language.  They  present  short, 
ready,  and  often  beautiful  modes  of  expression.  But  as  they  shed  light, 
both  upon  the  idiom  and  genius  of  the  language,  I  shall  not  scruple  to  add 
further  examples  and  ilhi.strations.  Ask  a  Chippewa,  the  name  for  rock, 
and  he  will  answer  «((■://  'ii!c.  The  generic  import  of  aubik,  has  been  ex- 
plained. Ask  him  the  name  for  red  rock,  and  he  will  answer  miskwau- 
bik, — for  white  rock,  and  ho  will  answer  waubaubik,  for  black  rock 
mukkudddwaubik, — for  yellow  rock,  ozahwaubik, — for  green  rock,  cz- 
hahwushkwaubik, — for  blight  rock,  wassayaubik,  for  smooth  rock,  shois- 
hkwaubik,  &,c.  compounds  in  which  the  words  red,  white,  black,  yellow, 
&.C.  unite  with  aubik.  Pursue  this  inquiry  and  the  following  forms  will 
be  elicited. 


Impetsonal, 


Miskwaubik-ud. 

Waubaubik-ud. 

Mukkuddawaubik-ud. 

Ozahwaubik-ud. 

Wassayaubik-ud. 

Shoiskwaubik-ud. 

Miskwaubik-izzi. 

Waubaubik-izzi. 

Mukkuddiiwaubik-izzi. 

Ozahwaubik-izzi. 

Wassayaubik-izzi. 

Shoiskwaubik-izzi. 


Personal. 


It  (is)  a  red  rock. 
It  (is)  a  white  rock. 
It  (is)  a  black  rock. 
It  (is)  a  yellow  rock. 
It  (is)  a  bright  rock. 
It  (is)  a  smooth  rock. 

He  (is)  a  red  rock. 
He  (is)  a  white  rock. 
He  (is)  a  black  rock. 
He  (is)  a  yellow  rock. 
He  (is)  a  bright  rock. 
He  (is)  a  smooth  rock. 


Add  bun  to  these  terms,  and  they  are  made  to  have  passed  away, — pre- 


.asy  (to  pcrfoTin.) 

zzi,  active,  kizhe- 

(.hUvvuiriJum,  sor- 

,„„  of  the  iuilica- 

ance.     PubbiggO" 

olul  mass.)     Kay 

kVassavnw  '^  light ; 

ht  of  a  star,  or  any 

up  Uni'-),  o-^  »^°"''- 
j.ugum.nedu,  IS  hot 

awecug  is  frivolous, 

nnears  to  be  a  gene- 

'Jpau,  is  applh.'l  to 

high  rock,     'r^^^^- 

fiuirer  at  every  step- 
They  present  short, 
,t  OS  they  shed  light, 
hall  not  scruple  to  add 
va,  the  name  for  rock, 
of  aubik,  has  been  ex- 
will  ansvver  miskwau- 
Ubik,  for  black  rock 
l.__for  green  rock,  oz- 
I'for  smooth  rock,  sbois- 

d,  white,  black,  yellow, 
'e  following  forms  wiU 


la  red  rock. 
la  while  rock. 

;i  \,lack  rock. 

a  yellow  rock. 

1  a  bright  rock. 

a  smooth  rock. 

Is)  a  red  rock, 

Is)  a  white  rock. 

Is)  a  black  rock. 

lis)  a  yellow  rock. 

is)  a  bright  rock. 

lis)  a  smooth  rock. 

lo  have  passed  away,-pter 


LANOUAOE. 


271 


fix  tah  to  tliem,  nml  their  future  nppenrance  is  indicntefl.  The  word  "is" 
ill  tlie  translntions,  ultliouf^h  marked  with  brackets,  is  not  deenied  wholly 
gratuiloi!.-).  Tliere  is,  strictly  speakinjf,  on  idea  of  exi-ili  iice  given  to  these 
compounila,  by  the  particle  uu  in  aubic,  which  seciii^  to  bo  indirectly  a 
derivative  from  tbut  great  ond  fundamental  root  of  the  language  iuu.  Bik, 
is,  iippariMiily,  the  radix  of  the  e.xpression  for  "ruck." 

Let  this  mode  of  interrogation  be  continued,  and  extended  to  other  ad- 
jpctivrs,  or  the  same  adjectives  applied  to  other  objects,  and  results  equally 
rc^Milar  and  numerous  will  bo  obtained.  Mimii.<i,  we  sbail  be  told,  is  on 
island  :  miskominnis,  a  red  island  ;  mukkaddiiminnis,  a  black  island  ;  wau< 
bi'ininnis,  a  while  island,  &o.  Annokvvut,  is  a  cloud  ;  miskwaunakwut,  a 
red  cloud;  mukkuddawukwut,  a  I  '  ick  cloud;  waubahnokwut,  a  white 
cloud  ;  oziibwiisbkwahnokwut,  a  1)1  loud,  &c,  Neebc  is  the  specific 
term  for  water ;  but  is  nut  generally  in  combinntion  with  the  adjec- 

tive. The  word  gima,  like  aiiho,  aji,  ars  to  be  a  generic  torin  for  water, 
or  potable  liquids.     Hence  the  following  terms  ; — 


Gitshee, 

Great. 

CJitshiguma, 

Great  water 

Nokun, 

Weak. 

Nokaiiguma, 

Weak  drink. 

Mushkowau, 

Strong. 

Mushkowauguma, 

Strong  drink. 

VVeeshkobun 

,  Sweet. 

Wee?hkobanguma 

,  Sweet  drink. 

Sheewun, 

Sour. 

Sheewauguma, 

Sour  drink. 

Weesugun, 

Bitter. 

Weesugauguma, 

Bitter  drink. 

Minno, 

Good, 

Minwauguma, 

Good  drink. 

Monaudud, 

Bad. 

Mahnauguma, 

Bad  drink. 

Miskwau, 

Red. 

Miskwauguma, 

Red  drink. 

Ozahwau, 

Yellow. 

Ozahwauguma, 

Yellow  drink 

Weenun, 

Dirty. 

Wcenauguma, 

Dirty  water. 

Peenud, 

Clear. 

Peenauguma, 

Clear  Water. 

From  minno,  and  from  monaudud,  good  and  bad,  are  derived  the  fol- 
lowing terms.  Minnopogwud,  it  tastes  well;  minnopogoozzi,  he  tastes 
well.  Mauzhepogwud,  it  tastes  bad  ;  mawzhepogoozzi,  he  tastes  bad. 
.Minnomaugw  ud,  it  smells  gsod  ;  minnomaugoozzi,  he  smells  good  ;  mag- 
gheinaugawud,  it  smells  bad  ;  mawhemaugoozzi,  he  smells  bad.  The  in- 
flections gwud,  and  izzi,  here  employed,  are  clearly  indicative,  as  in  other 
combinations,  of  the  words  it  and  /lim. 

Baimwa  is  sound.  Baimwawa,  the  passing  sound.  Minwdwa,  a 
pleasant  sound.  Minwawa,  a  pleasant  sound.  Maunwawa,  a  disagree- 
able sound.  Mudwayaushkau,  the  sound  of  waves  dashing  on  the  shore. 
Mudwayannnemud,  the  sound  of  winds.  Mudway  au  kooskau,  the 
sound  of  falling  trees.  Mudwiikumigishin,  the  sound  of  a  person  falling 
upon  the  earth.  Mudwaysin,  the  sound  of  any  inanimate  mass  filling  on 
the  earth.  These  examples  might  be  continued  ad  infinitum.  Every  mo- 
dification  of  circumstances — almost  every  peculiarity  of  thought  is  ex- 


-i« 


iirfii^ 


^  \r  1^ 


> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


1.1 


11.25 


■  2.2 

u 


■  4.0 


12.0 


<- 


Photographic 

Sdences 

Corporation 


23  WEST  MAIN  STREET 

WEBSTER,  N.Y.  MStO 

(716)  S72-4S03 


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r 


O^ 


272 


lanuuage:. 


prcssefl  by  some  modification  of  the  orlhogrnphy.  Enough  has  been  given 
to  prove  that  the  adjective  combines  itself  with  the  substantive,  the  verb 
and  the  pronoun — that  the  combinations  thus  produced  ore  numerous, 
aflbrd  concentrated  modes  of  conveying  ideas,  and  oftentimes  happy  terms 
of  expression.  Numerous  and  prevalent  as  these  forms  are,  they  do  not. 
however,  prechule  the  use  of  adjectives  in  their  simple  forms.  The  uso 
of  the  one,  or  of  the  other  appears  to  be  generally  at  the  option  of  the 
speaker.  In  most  cases  brevity  or  euphony  dictates  the  choice.  Usage 
results  from  the  application  of  these  principles.  There  may  be  rules  rest- 
ing upon  a  broader  basis,  but  if  so,  they  do  not  appear  to  be  very  obvious. 
Perhaps  the  simple  adjectives  arc  oftencst  employed  before  verbs  and  nouns, 
in  the  first  and  second  persons  singular. 

Ningee  minno  neebau-nabun,         I  have  slept  well. 


I  have  eaten  a  good  meal. 

1  have  walked  weII,ora  good  distance 

It  (is)  a  very  pleasant  day. 

I  have  a  handsome  garment 

Are  you  well? 

What  ails  you  ? 


J  God  prosper  you. 


Ningee  minno  weesin, 

Ningee  minno  pimmoossay, 

Kiigiit  minno  geeghigud, 

Kwunaudj  ningodahs, 

Ke  minno  iau  nuh? 

Auneende  ain  deyun  ? 

Keezhainonedo    aupiidushsha- 

wainenik, 

Auofidush    Shawaindaugoozze-  i  ^     i  i     i     ..     j 
'  ?  Good  luck  attend  you, 

yun,  > 

Aupadush  nau  kinwainzh  pim- 

maudizziyun,  •  May  you  live  long. 

Onauneegoozzin,  Be  (thou)  cheerful. 

No  miuwaindum  waubumaun,      I  (am)  glad  to  see  you, 

Kwanaudj   Kweeweezains, 

Kiigat  Songeedaa, 


Kiigat  onishishsha, 
Gitshee  kinOzce, 
U.ggausau  biiwizzi, 
Gitshee  sussaigau, 
Bishegaiiidaugooziwug 

wunu?, 
Ke  duukoozzinuh? 


A  pri  tty  boy. 
He  (Is)  a  brave  man. 
She  (is)  handsome. 
He  (is)  very  tall. 
She  (is)  slender. 
He  (is)  fine  dressed. 

i  They  (are)  beautiful  feather*. 


Are  you  sick. 

Monaudiid  niaundunmuskcelcee,  This  (is)  bad  medicine. 
Monaiilii,!  aindiiiiyun,  My  place  of  dwelling  (is)  ';ad. 

Aindauy.iun  mitshau,  My  place  of  dwelling  is  large. 

1S'«  mitiigwaub  onishishsha,  My  bow  (is)  good. 

Ne  bikwiikftn  monauJudOn,  But  my  arrows  (are)  bad. 

^o    .niMwamdaun   "PP^^l^oo^^"  [  I  i^ve  mild,  or  mixed,  tobacca 
legun,  ) 


een  given 
,  the  verb 
mmerous, 
ppy  terms 
ey  do  not. 

The  use 
on  of  the 
«.     Usage 

rules  vest- 
•y  obvious, 
and  nouns, 


od  distance 
ent 


ihcrs. 


s)  ^.ad. 
laigO. 


d. 
)bacca 


LARCnTAGB. 


273 


I- ) 

>  But  I  never  smoke  pure  totaeca 


Kanweekau  neezhikay  nssft- 

mau  ne  sugguswaunatisee, 

Monaudud  maishkowaugumig,  Strong  drink  (is)  bad. 

Keeguhgee  baudje^gonaun,      k  makes  us  foolish. 

Gitshee  Monedo  nebee  oiree  )  m^    r-,        r.  •  •        i 

.   _  •*      >  The  Great  Spirit  made  water. 

oznetAn,  ^  ^ 

Iniiu'ewuor  dush  ween  ishk&d&- 


(But  matt  made  whiskey. 


waubo  ogeo  ozhetftnahwaun 

These  expressions  are  put  down  promiscuously,  embracing  verbs  and 
nouns  as  they  presented  themselves;  and  without  any  effort  to  suppoit  tho 
opinion — which  may,  or  may  not  be  correct — that  the  elementary  forms 
of  the  adjectives  are  most  commonly  required  before  verbs  and  norms  in 
the  first  and  second  persons.  The  English  expression  is  thrown  into  In- 
diin  in  the  most  natural  manner,  and  of  course,  without  always  giving 
adjective  for  adjective,  or  noun  for  noun.  Thus,  God  is  rendered,  not 
"  Monedo,"  but,  "  Geezha  Morfedo,"  Merciful  Spirit.  Good  luck,  is  ren- 
dered by  the  con<pound  phrase  ^  Sh&waindaugoozzcyun,"  indicating,  in  a 
very  general  sense  the  injluence  of  kindness  or  benevolence  on  success  in 
life.  "  Sdngeddii  is  alone,  a  brave  man ;  and  the  word  "  Kagat,"  prefixed, 
is  an  adverb.  In  the  expression  "mild  tobacco,"  the  adjective  is  entirely 
dispensed  with  in  the  Indian,  the  sense  being  sufficiently  rendered  by  the 
compound  noun  "appaukoozzegun,"  which  always  means  the  Indian 
weed,  or  smoking  mixture.  "  Ussamau,"  on  the  contrary,  without  the 
adjective,  signifies,  "pure  tobacco."  '' BikwakOn,"  signifies  blunt,  or 
lumpy-headed  arrows.  Assotvaun  is  the  barbed  arrow.  Kwonaudj 
kwceweezains,  means,  not  simply  "pretty  boy,"  but  pretty  little  boy]  and 
there  is  no  mode  of  using  the  word  boy  but  in  this  diminutive  form — the 
the  wo'1  itself  being  a  derivative,  from  kewewe,  conjugal  with  the  regular 
diminutive  in  ains.  "  Onaunegoozzin"  embraces  the  pronoun,  verb  and 
adjective,  be  thou  cheerfvl.  In  the  last  phrase  of  the  examples,  "  man,"  is 
rendered  men  (inineewug)  in  the  translation,  as  the  term  man  cannot  be 
employed  in  the  general  plural  sense  it  conveys  in  this  connection,  in  the 
original.  The  word  "  whiskey,"  is  rendered  by  the  compound  phrase 
islikoduwaubo,  literally,  Jine-liqttor,  a  generic  for  all  kinds  of  ardent 
spirits. 

These  aberrations  from  the  literal  term,  will  convey  some  conceptions 
of  the  dilTerence  of  the  two  idioms,  ahhoiigh,  from  the  limited  nature  and 
obji'ct  of  the  examples,  they  will  not  indirate  the  full  extent  of  this  dilFer- 
ence.  In  giving  anythinglike  the  spirit  of  the  original,  much  greater  de- 
viations, in  the  wi iitrn  forms,  must  appear.  And  in  fict,  not  only  the 
sti  ik'tuie  of  the  language,  but  the  mode  and  order  of  thought  of  the  Indians 
is  so  tssciitially  ditlereiit,  that  any  attempts  to  preserve  the  English  idiom 
— to  give  letter  for  letter,  and  word  lor  word,  must  go  far  to  render  the 

(runslation  pure  nonsense. 

18 


'iMMHUt2.tlMK.i^bM»«v 


I', 


t74 


LANGUAGE. 


2.  Varied  as  the  adjective  is,  in  its  changes  it  has  no  comparative  in< 
flection.  A  Chippewa  cannot  say  that  one  substance  is  hotter  or  colder 
than  another  ;  or  of  two  or  more  substances  unequally  heated,  that  this,  or 
that  is  the  hottest  or  coldest,  without  employing  adverbs,  or  accessory  ad- 
iectifes.  And  it  is  occordingly  by  adverbs,  and  accessory  adjectives,  that 
the  degrees  of  comparison  are  expressed. 

Pimmaudizziwin,  is  a  very  general  substantive  expression,  in  indicating 
the  Itnor  of  being  or  life.  Izzhewabizziwin,  is  a  term  near  akin  to  it,  but 
more  appropriately  applied  to  the  acts,  conduct,  manner,  or  personal  dt^orp 
tnent  of  life.     Hence  the  expressions : 

Nin  bimmaudizziwin.  My  tenor  of  life. 

Ke  bimmaudizziwin.  Thy  tenor  of  life. 

O  Pimniaudizziwin,  His  tenor  of  life,  &c. 

Nin  dizekewabizziu'in,  My  personal  deportment 

Ke  dizhewdbizziwin.  Thy  personal  deportment. 

O  Izzhewabizzivvin,  His  personal  deportment,  &c. 

To  form  the  positive  degree  of  comparison  for  these  terms  minno,  good, 
and  mudjee,  bad,  are  introduced  between  the  pronoun  and  verb,  giving 
rise  to  some  permutations  of  the  vowels  and  consonants,  which  affect  the 
sound  only.     Thus  : — 


Nc  minno  pimmaudizziwin, 
Kf>  minno  piminuudizziwin, 
Minno  pimmauJizziwin, 
Ne  mudjpe  pimmaudizziwin, 
Ke  mudjee  pimmaudizziwin, 
Mudjee  pimmaudizziwin. 


My  good  tenor  of  life. 
Thy  good  tenor  of  life. 
His  good  tenor  of  life. 
My  bad  tenor  of  life. 
Thy  bad  tenor  of  life. 
His  bad  tenor  of  life. 


To  place  these  forms  in  the  comparative  degree,  nahwudj,  more,  is  pre- 
fixed to  tlie  adjective ;  and  the  superljitive  is  denoted  by  mahmowce,  an  ad- 
verb, or  an  adjective  as  it  is  variously  applied,  but  the  meaning  of  which, 
is,  in  this  connexion,  most.  The  degrees  of  comparison  may  be  therefore 
set  down  as  follows  : — 

Pcsitive,      Kisheda,  Hot,  (restricted  to  the  heat  of  a  fire.) 

Comp.  Nahwudj  Kisheda,   More  hot. 

Super.  Mahmowee  Kisheda,  Most  hot. 

Krt  dizzihewabizziwin  onishishin. 
Ke  dizzhewabizziwin  nahwudj  onis- 
hishin. 
Ke  dizzhewabizziwin  mahmowe6 
onishishin. 
(  Odizzhewabizziwin  mahmowee  onish- 
/  ishinine. 

Mikkenokdns  sOngedaabua 


Your  manner  of  life  is  good. 
Your  manner  of  life  is  better, 

Your  manner  of  life  is  best. 

His  manner  of  life  is  best, 
Little  Turtle  was  brave, 


LANGUAGE. 


27& 


<tive  in« 
)r  colJei 
t  this,  or 
ssory  ad- 
ives,  tbal 

indicating 

1  to  it,  bu> 
ml  dtjiorP 


snt. 

nt,  &c. 
minno,  good, 
verb,  giving 
ich  affect  the 


1],  more,  is  pre- 
\hmowee,anai- 
(itig  of  which, 
ly  be  therefore 

Iheat  of  a  fire.) 


onishishin. 
nahwudj  onis- 

mahmowefi 

lahmoweeonish- 


Tecumseh  was  braver, 
Pontmc  was  bravest, 
3.  The  adjective  assumes 
adverb.     Thus  the  phrase 
(veen  abnged&Asee,  he  is  not 
Positive. 
Neebwaukah, 
He  is  wise. 
Kwonaudjewe, 

She  is  handsome, 
Oskineegee, 

He  is  young. 
Shaugweewee, 
He  is  feeble. 
Geekkau, 

He  is  old. 
Mushkowizzi, 
He  is  strong. 


Tecumseh  nahwidj  sOnged&Abun. 

J^ontiac  mahmowee  sOnged&abua. 
a  negative  form  when  it  is  preceeded  by  tho 
sOngedaa,  he  is  brave,  is  changed  to,  Kah- 
brave. 

Negative. 
ICahween  neebwaukah-see, 

He  is  not  wise. 
Kahween  kwonaudjewe-se& 

She  is  not  handsome. 
Kahween  oskineegee-see 

He  is  not  young. 
ICahween  Shaugweewee-see, 

He  is  not  feeble. 
Kahween  Geekkau-see, 

He  is  not  old. 
Kahween  Mushkowizzi-see, 
He  is  not  strong. 


From  this  rule  the  indeclinable  adjectives — by  which  is  meant  those  ad- 
jectives which  do  not  put  on  the  personal  and  impersonal  forms  by  inflec- 
tion, but  consist  of  radically  different  roots — ^form  exceptions. 


Ke  dahkoozzi  nuh? 

Kahween  ke  dahkoozzi-see ! 

Ne  minwaindum. 

Kahween  ne  minwuinduz-see 

Mudjee  izzhewabizzi. 

Kahween  mudjee  a  izzhewabizzirsee. 

Mitshau  muggud. 

Kahween  mitshau-seenfin. 


Are  you  sick  ? 

you  are  not  sick  I 

I  am  happy. 

I  am  unhappy. 

His  manner  of  life  is  bad. 

His  manner  of  life  is  not  bad. 

It  is  large. 

It  is  not  large. 

In  these  examples  the  declinable  adjectives  are  rendered  negative  in  see. 
The  indeclinable,  remain  as  simple  adjuncts  to  the  verbs,  and  the  latter 
put  on  the  negative  form. 

'4.  In  the  hints  and  remarks  which  have  now  been  furnished  respect- 
ing the  Chippewa  adjective,  its  powers  and  inflections  have  been  shown 
to  run  parallel  with  those  of  the  substantive,  in  its  separation  into  animates 
and  inanimates, — in  having  the  pronominal  inflections, — in  taking  an  in- 
flection for  tense — (a  topic,  which,  by  the  way,  has  been  very  cursorily 
passed  over,)  and  in  the  numerous,  modifications  to  form  the  compounds. 
This  parallelism  has  also  been  mtimated  to  hold  good  with  respect  to 
number — a  subject  deeply  interesting  in  itself,  as  it  has  its  analogy  only  in 
the  ancient  languages,  and  it  was  therefore  deemed  best  to  defer  giving  ex- 
amples  till  they  could  be  introduced  without  abstracting  the  attention  from 
other  points  of  discussion. 


276 


LAttaVAGK. 


Good  apple. 
Handsome  woman. 
Brave  man. 
Beautiful  bird. 
Yellow  bee. 

Good  apples. 
Handsome  women. 
Brave  men. 


Minno  and  mudjee,  good  and  bad,  being  of  the  limited  number  of  per- 
sonal adjectives,  which  modern  usage  permits  being  applied,  although 
often  improperly  applied,  to  inanimate  objects,  they  as  well  as  a  few  other 
adjectives,  form  exceptions  to  the  use  of  number.  Whether  we  say  a  good 
man  or  a  bad  man,  good  men  or  bad  men,  the  words  minno  and  mudjee, 
remain  the  same.  But  all  the  declinable  and  coalescing  adjectives — adjec- 
tives which  join  on,  and,  as  it  were,  melt  into  the  body  of  the  substantive, 
take  the  usual  plural  inflections,  and  are  governed  by  the  same  rules  in 
regard  to  their  use,  as  the  substantive,  personal  adjectives  requiring  per* 
sonal  plurals,  &c. 

Adjectives  Animate. 

Singular. 

Onishishewe  mishemin, 
Kwonaudjewe  eekwa, 
Songeddft  inine, 
Bishegaindaugoozzi  peenasee, 
Ozahwizzi  ahmo, 

Plural. 
Onishishewe-wug  mishemin-ug, 
Kwonaudjewe-wug  eekwd-wug, 
Songedaa-wug  inine-wug, 

Bishegaindaugoozzi-wugpeenasee-wug,  Beautiful  birds. 
Ozahwizzi-wug  ahm-ftg.  Yellow  bees. 

Adjectives  Inanimate. 
Singular. 
Onishishin  mittig, 
Kwonaudj  tshemaun, 
Monaudud  ishkoda, 
Weeshkobun  aidetaig, 

Plural. 
Onisbishin-6n  mittig-dn, 
Kwonaudjewun-on  tshemaun-un, 
Monaudud-6n  ishkodan, 
Weeshkobun-6n  aidetaig-in, 

Peculiar  circumstances  are  supposed  to  exist,  in  order  to  render  the 
uae  of  the  adjective,  in  this  connexion  with  the  noun,  necessary  and 
proper.  But  in  ordinary  instances,  as  the  narration  of  events,  the  noun 
would  precede  the  adjective,  and  oftentimes,  pnrticulirly  where  a  second 
allusion  to  objects  previously  named  became  nccessiiry,  the  compound  e.v 
pressions  would  be  used.  Thus  instead  of  snying  the  yellow  bee,  way- 
zahwizzid,  would  distinctly  convey  the  idea  of  that  insect,  had  the  species 
been  before  named.     Under  similar  circumstances  kainwaukoozzid,  agau- 


Good  tree. 
Handsome  canoe. 
Bad  fire. 
Sweet  fruit. 

Good  trees. 
Handsome  canoes. 
Bad  fires. 
Sweet  fruits. 


LANGUAGE. 


277 


It  of  per- 
although 
few  other 
jay  a  good 
d  mudjee, 
■es— adjec- 
lubstantive, 
le  rules  in 
[uiring  pel* 


men. 


jnoes. 


to  Tender  the 
necessary  and 

events,  the  noun 
where  a  second 

le  compound  ex- 
bellow  bee,  way- 

ci,  had  the  speciei 

Lukoowid,  agau- 


shcid  sdngnunemiid,  muslikowaiinoinud,  would  respectively  signify,  a  tall 
tree,  a  small  fly,  a  strong  wind,  a  hard  wind.  And  these  terms  would  be- 
come plural  in  jiff,  which,  ns  before  mentioned,  is  u  mere  modification  of 
ig,  one  of  the  five  general  animate  plural  inflections  of  the  language. 

Kut,'at  wahwiiKiudj  abhenftjeeug,  is  an  expression  indicating  l/wi/  are 
very  hau'lsome  children.  Biibbeeweezheovvuir  nionctOsug,  denotes  small 
inscctx.  Minno  neewugizzi,  is  good  tempered,  he  is  good  tempered. 
Mawshininewiigizzi,  is  bad  tempered,  both  having  their  plural  in  wug. 
Nin  nuneenahwaindum,  I  am  lonesome.  Nin  nuneenahwaindaumin,  we 
(excluding  you)  are  lonesome.  Wawoea,  is  a  term  gent^rally  used  to 
express  the  adjective  sense  o{ round.  Kwy,  is  the  scalp.  [Wrenikwy hvi 
scalp.)  Hence  Weewukwon,  hat ;  Wayweewukwonid,  a  wearer  of  the 
hat;  and  its  plural  Wayeewukwonidjig,  wearers  of  the  hats — the  usual 
term  applied  to  Europeans,  or  white  men  generally.  These  examples 
go  to  prove,  tiiiU  under  every  form  in  which  the  adjective  can  be  traced, 
whether  in  its  simplest  or  most  compound  state,  it  is  susceptible  of  number. 

The  numerals  of  the  language  are  converted  into  adverbs,  by  the  in- 
flection ing.1  making  one,  onre,  «fcc.     The  unit  exists  in  duplicate. 

Pazhik,  One,  general  unit!  .    ,    ,.        _ 
,  ,.,  •    1      •  J  Aubeding,  Once. 

lngoot,One,numerical  unit  j  ° 


Neesh,  Two. 
N  is  wee,  Three. 
Neewin,  Four. 
Naunun,  Five. 
N'goodwaswii,  Six. 
Neeshwauswii,  Seven. 
Shwauswe,  Eight. 
Shongusswc,  Nine. 
Meetauswee,  Ten. 


Neeshing,  Twice. 

Nissing,  Thrice. 

Neewing,  Four-times. 

Nauning,  Five-times. 

N'gooJwautshing,  Six-times. 

Neeshwautshing,  Seven-times, 

Shwautshing,  Eight-times. 

Shongutshing,  Nine-times. 

Mectaushing,  Ten-times. 
These  inflections  can  be  carried  as  high  as  they  can  compute  numbers 
They  count  decimally.  After  reaching  ten,  they  repeat,  ten  and  one,  ten 
and  two,  &c.  to  twenty.  Twenty  is  a  compound  signifying  two  tens, 
thirty,  three  tens,  &.C.,  a  mode  which  is  carried  up  to  one  hundred  }i'gooil- 
wak.  Wak,  then  becomes  the  word  of  denomination,  combining  with  the 
names  of  the  digits,  until  they  reach  a  thousand,  /«',(■/««$«■««/>;,  literally, /en 
hundred.  Here  a  new  compound  terra  is  introduced  made  by  prefixing 
twenty  to  the  last  denomination,  neshtonnah  duswak,  which  doubles  the 
last  term,  thirty  triples  it,  forty  quadruples  it,  &c.,  till  the  computation 
reaches  to  ten  thousand,  n'goodwak  dushing  n'gooJwak,  one  hundred 
times  one  hundred.  This  is  the  probable  extent  of  all  certain  computation. 
The  term  Gitshee,  (great,)  prefixed  to  the  last  denomination,  leaves  the 
number  indefinite. 

There  is  no  form  of  the  numerals  corresponding  to  second,  third,  fourth, 
&c.     They  can  only  further  say,  nilttim  first,  and  ishkwaudj,  las*. 


•'iHi''P 


LECTURE    IV. 

Nature  and  principles  of  the  pronoun — Its  distinction  into  preformative  and  subfor 
matire  classes — Personal  pronouns — The  distinction  of  an  inclusive  and  exclusire  form 
in  the  number  of  the  first  person  plural — Modifications  of  the  personal  pronouns  to  im- 
ply existence,  individuality,  possession,  ownership,  position  and  other  accidents-^Declen- 
■ion  of  pronouns  to  answer  the  purpose  of  the  auxiliary  verbs — Subformatives,  how 
employed,  to  mark  the  persons — Relative  pronouns  considered — Their  application  to  the 
causative  verbs — Demonstrative  pronouns — ^their  separation  into  two  classes,  animates 
and  inanimates — Example  of  their  use. 

Pronouns  are  buried,  if  we  may  so  say,  in  the  structure  of  the  verb. 
In  tracing  them  back  to  their  primitive  forms,  through  the  almost  infinite 
variety  of  modifications  which  they  assume,  in  connexion  with  the  verb, 
substantive  and  adjective,  it  will  facilitate  analysis,  to  group  them  into 
preformative  and  subformative,  which  include  the  pronominal  prefixes 
and  suffixes,  and  which  admit  of  the  further  distinction  of  separable  and 
inseparable.  By  separable  is  intended  those  forms,  which  have  a  mean- 
ing  by  themselves,  and  are  thus  distinguished  from  the  inflective  and 
subformative  pronouns,  and  pronominal  particles  significant  only,  in  con- 
nection  with  another  word. 

1.  Of  the  first  class,  are  the  personal  pronouns  Neen  (I,)  Keen  (thou,) 
and  Ween  or  O  (he  or  she.)  They  are  declined  to  form  the  plural  per 
sons  in  the  following  manner : 

I,  Neen.  We 

We 

Thou,         Keen.  Ye 

He  or  She,  Ween  or  O.  They 

Here  the  plural  persons  are  formed  by  a  numerical  inflection  of  the 
singular.  The  double  plural  of  the  first  person,  of  which  both  the  rule 
and  examples  have  been  incidentally  given  in  the  remarks  on  the  substan- 
tive, is  one  of  those  peculiarities  of  the  language,  which  may,  perhaps, 
serve  to  aid  in  a  comparison  of  it,  with  other  dialects,  kindred  and  foreign. 
As  a  mere  :onventional  agreement,  for  denoting  whether  the  person  ad- 
dressed, be  included,  or  excluded,  it  may  be  regarded  as  an  advantage  to 
the  language.  It  enables  the  speaker,  by  the  change  of  a  single  conso- 
nant, to  make  a  full  and  clear  discrimination,  and  relieves  the  narration 

278 


Keen  owind  (in.) 
Neen  owind  (ex.) 
Keen  owau. 
Ween  owau. 


INDIAN   LANGUAGES. 


279 


re  wA  subfor 
exclusive  fonn 
ronoun*  lo  »•"- 
lenle-rDecleii- 
wmolWes,  how 
)p\ication  lo  the 
agsee,  auinmtee 

B  of  the  verb. 

almost  infinite 

with  the  verb, 

Dup  them  into 

minal  prefixes 
separable  and 

11  have  a  mean- 
inflective  and 
It  only,  in  con- 

,)  Keen  (thou,) 
the  plural  per 

owind  (in.) 

jwind  (ex.) 

|owau. 
owau. 
inflection  of  the 

Ich  both  the  rule 

Is  on  the  substan- 
.  may,  perhaps, 
Ired  and  foreign. 
et  the  person  ad- 
,  an  advantage  to 
af  a  single  conse- 
rves the  narration 
278 


from  doubts  and  ambiguity,  where  doubts  and  ambiguity  would  otherwise 
oAcn  e.xist.  On  the  other  hand,  by  accumulating  distinctions,  it  loads  tho 
memory  with  grammatical  forms,  and  opens  a  door  for  improprieties  of 
speech.  We  are  not  aware  of  any  inconveniencios  in  the  use  of  a  gene- 
ral plural.  But  in  the  Indian  it  would  produce  confusion.  And  it  is 
perhaps  to  that  cautious  desire  of  personal  discrimination,  which  is  so  ap- 
piireiit  in  the  structure  of  the  language,  that  we  should  look  for  the  roiv- 
son  of  the  duplicate  forms  of  this  word.  Once  esUiblished,  however,  and 
both  tiie  distinction,  and  the  necessity  of  a  constant  and  strict  atti-ntion  to 
it,  are  very  obvious  and  striking,'.  How  shall  he  address  the  Deity  ?  If 
he  say — "  Oar  fat/ier  who  art  in  heaven"  the  inclusive  form  of  " our" 
makes  the  Almighty  one  of  the  suppliants,  or  family.  If  he  use  the  ex- 
clusive form,  it  throws  him  out  of  the  family,  and  mnyembracn  every  liv- 
ing being  but  the  Deity.  Yet,  neither  of  these  forms  can  be  used  well  in 
pruyer,  as  they  cannot  be  applied  dire(|fly  to  the  object  addressed.  It  is 
only  when  speaking  of  the  Deity,  under  the  narne  of  father,  to  other  per- 
sons, that  the  inclusive  and  exclusive  forms  of  the  word  "our"  can  be 
used.  The  dilemma  may  be  obviated,  by  the  use  of  a  compound  descrip> 
tive  phrase — Wa  &  se  mig  o  yun,  signifying — thou  who  art  the  fa- 
THEii  OF  Ar.L.     Or,  universal  father. 

In  practice,  however,  the  question  is  cut  short,  by  those  persons  who 
have  embraced  Christianity.  It  has  seemed  to  them,  that  by  the  use  of 
either  of  the  foregoing  terms,  the  Deity  would  be  thrown  into  too  remote 
a  relation  to  them,  and  I  have  observed,  that,  in  prayer,  they  invariably  ad- 
dress Him,  by  the  term  used  by  children  for  the  father  of  a  family,  that  is, 
NosA,  my  father 

The  other  personal  pronouns  undergo  some  peculiar  changes,  when 
employed  as  preformatives  before  nouns  and  verbs,  which  it  is  r  ;  '.rtant 
to  remark.  Thus  neen,  is  sometimes  rendered  ne  or  nin,  and  somtfimes 
nim.  Keen,  is  rendered  ke  or  kin.  In  compound  words  the  mere  signs 
of  the  first  and  second  pronouns,  N  and  K,  are  employed.  The  use  of 
ween  is  limited  ;  and  the  third  person,  singular  and  plural,  is  generally  in- 
dicated by  the  sign,  O. 

The  particle  suh  added  lo  the  complete  forms  of  the  disjunctive  pro- 
nouns, imparts  a  verbal  sense  to  them  ;  and  appears  in  this  instance,  to  be 
a  succedaneurn  for  the  substantive  verb.  Thus  Neen,  I,  becomes  Neensuh, 
it  is  I.  Keen,  thou,  becomes  Keensuh,  it  is  thou,  and  Ween,  he  or  she, 
Weensuh,  it  is  he  or  she.  This  particle  may  also  be  added  to  the  plural 
forms. 


Keenowind  suh. 
Ncenowind  suh. 
Kecnowa  suh. 
Weenowau  suh. 


It  is  we  (in.) 
It  is  we  (ex.) 
It  is  ye,  or  you. 
It  is  they. 


f        I 


S80 


INDIAN   LANOUAOEB. 


If  the  word  aittah  be  substituted  for  suh,  a  set  of  adverbial  phrase*  tr« 
formed. 


Neen  aittah,     I  only. 

Keen  aittah,     Thou  only. 
Ween  aittah,   He  or  she  only. 


Necn  uittuh  wind. 
Keen  aittnh  wind. 
Keen  uittuh  wan, 
Ween  aittah  wou, 


Wo  &,c.  (cs.) 
Wedtc.  (m) 
You  fltc. 
They  Ac. 


In  like  manner  niltum  first,  and  ishkwaudj  lust,  give  rise  to  the  follcv 
ing  arrangement  of  the  pronoun  : 


Neen  nittum, 
Keen  nittum, 
Ween  nittum, 
Keen  nittum  evvind, 
Neen  nittum  ewind, 
Keen  nittum  ewau, 
Ween  nittum  ewau, 


I  first. 

You  or  thou  first. 
He  or  she  first. 
We  first,  (ill.) 
We  first.  (e.\.) 
Ye  or  you  first. 
'J'hey  first. 


ISHKWAUDJ. 


Neen  ishkwaudj. 
Keen  ishkwaudj. 
Ween  ishkwandj, 
Keenowind  ishkwaudj, 
Neenowind  ishkwaudj, 
Keenowau  ishkwaudj, 
Weenowttu  ishkwaudj, 


I  last. 
Thou  last. 
He  or  she  last. 
We  last  (in.) 
We  last  (ex.) 
Ye  or  you  last. 
They  last. 


The  disjunctive  forms  of  the  pronoun  are  also  sometimes  preserved  be- 
fore verbs  and  adjectives. 


NEEZHIKA.    Alone,  (an.) 

Neen  neezhika,  I  alone. 

Keen  neezhika, 

Ween  neezhika, 

Keenowind  neezhika, 

Neenowind  neezhika, 

Keenowau  neezhika, 

Weenowau  neezhika. 


Thou  alone. 
He  or  she  alone. 
We  alone  (in.) 
We  alone  (o.\.) 
Ye  or  you  alone. 
They  alone. 


To  give  these  expressions  a  verbal  form,  the  sulstantive  verb,  with  i(s 
pronominal  modifications,  must  be  superadded.  For  instance,  /  am  al<»ne, 
&c.,  is  thus  rendered : 

Neen  neezhika  nindyau,  I  am  alone,  x  aumin. 

Keen  neezhika  keedyau.  Thou  art  alone,  x  aum. 

Ween  neezhika  lyau,  He  or  she  is  alone,  &c.  x  ^vng. 

In  the  subjoined  examples  the  nonn  o\v,  bodvi  is  chanjrcd  to  a  verb,  by 


tcj 


INDIAN   LANOUAOE*. 


981 


18(!»  »t« 
tC.  («N  ) 

Alc. 


IC 


follo'V 


prese 


;rvcd  W 


lo. 


vcvV,  Willi  its 
Ice,  /  ft"'  "'""®' 


pin. 

ic.  X  wng. 

U  to  a  verb,  uj 


the  permiiUition  of  tho  vowel,  changing  u\v  to  nuw,  which  last  takes  the 
letter  d  beforo  it,  when  the  pronoun  is  prefixed. 


I  am  a  man, 
ThoM  art  a  man, 
lie  is  a  man. 
We  are  men,  (in.) 
We  are  men,  (ex.) 
Ye  are  men, 
They  are  men, 


Neen  nin  dauw. 
Keen  kn  dauw. 
Weon  uh  weeh. 
Ko  dauw  we  niin. 
Ne  dauw  we  min. 
Kc  dauw  min. 
Weenowau  ah  wcch  wiig. 


In  tho  translation  of  these  expressions  "  man"  is  used  as  synonomous 
with  person.  If  the  specific  term  inine,  had  been  introduced  in  the  origi- 
nal, the  meaning  thereby  conveyed  would  be,  in  this  particular  coiine.\ion. 
I  am  a  man  with  respect  to  courage  &c.,  in  opposition  to  effeminncy.  It 
would  not  be  simply  declarative  of  corporeal  existence,  but  of  existence  in 
a  particular  stale  or  condition. 

In  the  following  phrases,  the  modified  forms,  or  the  signs  only.,  of  the 
pronouns  are  used : 


N'  debaindaun, 
Ke  debaindaun, 
O  debaindaun, 
N'  debaindaun-in, 
Ke  debuindnun-in, 
Ke  debaindaun-ewau, 
O  debaindaun-ewau, 


I  own  it. 
Thou  ownest  it. 
He  or  she  owns  it. 
We  own  it  (ex.) 
We  own  it  (in.) 
Ye  own  it. 
They  own  it. 


These  examples  are  cited  as  e.xhibiting  the  manner  in  which  the  pre- 
fixed and  preformative  pronouns  are  employed,  both  in  their  full  and  con- 
tracted forms.  To  denote  possession,  nouns  specifying  the  things  pos- 
sessed, are  required;  and,  what  would  not  be  anticipated,  had  not  full 
examples  of  this  species  of  declension  been  given  in  another  place,  tho 
purposes  of  distinction  are  not  effected  by  a  simple  change  of  the  pronoun, 
as  /  to  mine,  &c.,  but  by  a  subformative  inflection  of  the  noun,  which  is 
thus  made  to  have  a  reflective  operation  upon  the  pronoun  speaker.  It  is 
believed  that  sufficient  examples  of  this  rule,  in  all  the  modifications  of 
inflection,  have  been  given  under  the  head  of  the  sulstiintive.  But  as  the 
substantives  employed  to  elicit  these  modifications  were  exclusively  specific 
in  their  meaning,  it  may  be  proper  here,  in  fuither  illustration  of  an  im- 
portant principle,  to  present  a  generic  su!)Stantivc  under  their  compound 
forms. 

I  have  selected  for  this  purpose  one  of  the  primitives.  Ii>.\u.  is  the  absjtract 
term  for  existing  matter.  It  is  in  the  animate  form  and  declarative.  Its  inani- 
mate correspondent  is  \v..kL    These  are  two  important  roots.  And  thryare 


i-i;'<l 


282 


INDIAN   LANGVAGER. 


found  in  combination,  in  a  very  great  number  of  derivative  wordi.  It  will 
be  sufficient  here,  to  show  their  connexion  with  the  pronoun,  in  the  pro* 
duction  of  a  class  of  terms  in  very  general  use. 


Animate  Forms. 


Poss, 


Obj. 


Singular. 
Nin  dy6  aum,        Mine. 


Ke  dy«  aum, 
O  dye  aum-un, 


Thine. 
His  or  Hers. 


Plural. 

Nin  dy<i  auminnun, 
Ke  dyd  auminaun, 
Ko  dy6  Qumewuu, 
O  dye  oumewuun, 


Ours.  (e.x.) 
Ours,    (in.) 
Yours. 
Theirs. 


Inanimate  Forms. 
Singular.  Plural. 

!Nin  dyd  eem,     Mine.  Nin  dyii  ecminaun,  Ours,  (ex.) 

Ke  dy6  ceininaun,  Ours,  (in.) 
Ko  dyfi  eem,      Thine.  Ke  dy6  eemewau,  Yours. 

Obj.      O  dyfi  eem-un,    His  or  Hers.  O  dyij  eeuiewaun,  Theirs.  Poss.  tn. 

In  these  forms  the  noun  is  singular  throughout.  To  render  it  plural, 
as  well  us  the  pronoun,  the  appropriate  general  plurals  ug  and  un  or  ig 
and  in,  must  be  superadded.  But  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  in  making 
these  additions,  "that  the  plural  inflection  to  inanimate  nouns  (which  have 
no  objective  case,)  forms  the  objective  case  to  animates,  which  have  no 
number  in  the  third  person,"  fp  30.]  The  particle  mm,  therefore,  which 
is  the  appropriate  plural  for  the  inanimate  nouns  in  these  examples,  is  only 
the  objective  mark  of  the  animate. 

The  plural  of  I,  is  nauuy  the  plural  of  thou  and  he,  wau.  But  as  these 
inflections  would  not  coalesce  stnoothly  with  the  possessive  inflections,  the 
connective  vowels  i.  and  e.  are  prefixed,  making  the  plural  of  I,  inauny 
and  of  thou,  &c.  ewau. 

If  we  strike  from  these  declensions  the  root  ie,  leaving  its  animate  and 
inanimate  forms  au,  and  ee,  and  adding  the  plural  of  the  noun,  we  shall 
then, — taking  the  animate  declension  as  an  instance,  have  the  following 
formula  of  the  pronominal  declensions. 


Pron. 

Jjing. 

Place  of  the 
Noun. 

Poseflsive 
inflection. 

Obj.  inflec. 

to  the 
noun  sin;;. 

Connect, 
vowel. 

-  i  - 

-  e  - 

-  e  - 

Piu.  intlec. 

of  the 
pronoun. 

Obj. 
inflec. 
n.  piu. 

Plural 
of  the 
Noun. 

Ne 
Ke 
0 
0 

aum 
aum 
aum 
aum 

-  naun 

-  wau 

-  wau 

-  n 

-  s- 

un 

To  render  this  formula  of  general  use,  six  variations,  (five  in  addition 


INDIAN   LANOUAOBt. 


283 


I.    It  will 
1  ihe  pro* 


Ours,  (ex) 
0uv8    (in) 
Yours. 
Theirs. 


8.  (ex.) 

rs.  (in) 

iirs. 

eirs.  Poss.  tn. 

ier  it  plural, 
and  ttft  or  ig 
id,  in  making 
,8  (which  have 
krhich  have  no 
erefore,  which 
amples,  is  only 

But  as  these 
I  inflections,  the 
al  of  I,  *««»"» 

[its  animate  and 
noun,  we  shall 
ihe  following 


iuflec.    of  the 
In.pUi.    Noun. 


-  n 


to  the  above)  of  tho  possessive  inflection,  are  required,  corresponding  to 
the  six  cljsses  of  substantives,  whereby  aum  would  bo  chnnjrtd  to  oin, 
ccm,  im,  Om,  and  ooui,  conformably  to  iho  exiimplcs  lieretoforo  given  in 
treating  of  the  riubstiintive.  The  objective  inflection,  would  tilsu  be  somo- 
times  «-huiiged  to  ctn  und  sometimes  to  oan. 

Having  thus  indicuted  the  mode  nf  distinguishing  the  person,  number, 
reliitiun,  and  gender — or  what  is  dtcmed  its  tocluiicnl  rcpiivulitit,  tho  mu- 
tation words  undergo,  not  to  mark  the  distinctions  of  jez,  but  th<'  presence 
or  absence  n[ vitality^  I  shall  now  advert  to  the  inflictions  ubicli  the  pro- 
nouns ttike  for  lensty  or  rather,  to  form  the  auxiliary  verbs,  have,  had, 
shull,  will,  may,  dec.  A  very  curious  nnd  important  principle,  and  one, 
which  clearly  demonstrates  that  no  part  of  speech  has  cscapt'd  the  trans- 
forming genius  of  the  language.  Not  only  are  the  three  great  modi- 
fications of  time  accurately  marked  in  the  verbal  forms  of  the  Chippe- 
was,  but  by  the  inflection  of  the  pronoun  they  are  enabled  to  indicate 
some  of  the  oblique  tenses,  and  thereby  to  conjugate  their  verbs  with  ac> 
curacy  and  precision. 

The  particle  gee  added  to  the  first,  second,  and  third  persons  singular  of 
the  present  tense,  changes  them  to  the  perfect  past,  rendering  I,  thou,  He, 
I  did — have — or  had.  Thou  didst, — hast — or  hadst,  He,  or  she  did— 
have,  or  had.  U  gah^  be  substituted  for  gee,  the  fiist  future  tense  is 
formed,  and  the  perfect  past  added  to  the  first  future,  forms  the  conditional 
future.  As  the  eye  may  prove  an  auxiliary  in  tho  comprehension  of 
forms,  which  are  not  familiar,  the  following  tabular  arrangement  of  them, 
is  presented. 

First  Person,  I. 
Nin  gee,  •  I  did — have — had. 

Nin  gah,  I  shall — will. 

Nin  gah  gee,  I  shall  have — will  have. 

Second  Person,  Thou. 
Ke  gee,  Thou  didst — hast — hadst. 

Ke  gah,  Thou  sholt— wilt. 

Ke  gah  gee.  Thou  shalt  have — wilt  have. 


Third  Person,  He,  or  She. 
'  He  or  she  did — has — had. 

He  or  she  did — has — haa. 
He  or  she  shall  have — will  have. 


[(five  in  addition 


O  gee, 
Ogah, 
O  gah  gee, 

The  ptesent  and  imperfect  tense  of  the  potential  mood,  is  formed  by 
dau,  and  the  perfect  by  gee,  suffixed  as  in  other  instances. 

First  Person,  I. 
Nin  dau,  I  may — car,  &.c. 

Nin  dau  gee,  I  may  have — can  have,  &c. 


284 


INDIAN   LANGUAGES. 


Second  Person,   Ihou. 
Ke  'lau,  Thou  inayst — canst,  &c. 

Ke  dau  gee,  Thou  mayst  Iiave — canst  have,  &c. 

Third  Person,  He,  or  She. 
O  dau,  He  01- she  maj' — can,  &c. 

O  dau  gee,  He  or  she  may  have^-can  have,  &,c. 

In  conjugating  the  verbs  through  the  plural  persons,  the  singular 
terms  for  the  pronoun  remain,  and  they  are  rendered  plural  by  a  retro- 
spective action  of  the  pronominal  inflections  of  the  verb.  In  this  manner 
the  pronoun-verb  auxiliary,  has  a  general  application,  and  the  necessity 
of  double  forms  is  avoiiled. 

The  preceling  observations  are  confined  to  the  formative  or  prefixed 
pronouns.     The  inseparable  sufli.xed  or  subforinative  are  as  follows — 

Yaun,  My. 

Yun,  Thy. 

Id,  or  d.  His,  or  hers. 

Yaung,  Our.  (ex.) 

Yung,  Our.  (in.) 

Yaig,  Your. 

Waud,  Their. 

These  pronouns  are  exclusively  employed  as  sufH.xes, — and  as  suffixes 
to  the  descriptive  compound  substantives,  adjectives  and  verbs.  Both 
the  rule  and  examples  have  been  stated  under  the  head  of  the  substantive, 
p.  43.  and  adjective,  p.  81.  Their  application  to  the  verb  will  be  shown, 
as  we  proceed. 

2.  Relitive  Pronouns.  In  a  language  which  provides  for  the  distinc- 
tions of  person  by  particles  prefixed  or  suffixed  to  the  verb,  it  will 
scarcely  be  expected,  that  separate  and  independent  relative  pronouns 
should  exist,  or  if  snob  are  to  be  found,  their  use,  as  separate  p.Trts  of 
speech,  must,  it  will  have  been  anticipated,  be  quite  limited — limited  to 
simple  interrogatory  forms  of  expression,  and  not  applicable  to  the  indica- 
tive, or  declaratory.  Such  will  be  found  to  be  the  fiict  in  the  language 
under  review  ;  and  it  will  be  perceived,  from  the  subjoined  examples,  that 
in  all  instances,  requiring  the  relative  pronoun  who,  (,tiier  than  tiie  simple 
interrogatory  forms,  this  relation  is  indicated  by  the  inflections  of  the  verb, 
or  adjective,  &c.  Nor  does  there  appear  to  be  any  declension  of  the  sep- 
arate pronoun,  corresponding  to  tcfiose,  and  whom. 

The  word  Ahwaynain,  may  be  said  to  be  uniformly  employed  in  the 
sense  of  7vho,  under  the  limitations  we  have  mentioned.      For  instance. 
Who  is  there?  Ahwaynain  e-mah  ai-aud? 

Who  spoke?  Ahwaynain  kau  keegcndood? 

Who  tcld  you  ?  Ahwaynain  kau  ween  dumoak? 


'•/:  T"r 


INDIAN   LANOVAOES. 


285 


,  &c. 


le,  &c. 
•  singular 
by  a  ret  ro- 
lls manner 
e  necessity 

or  prefixed 
Hows — 


d  as  suffixes 
erbs.  Both 
substantive, 

ill  be  shown, 

)r  the  distinc- 
verb,  it  will 
ive  pronouns 
rate  parts  of 
d — limited  to 
to  the  indica- 
thc  language 
examples,  that 
lan  the  simple 
ns  of  the  verb, 
ion  of  the  sep- 

nploycd  in  the 
^or  instance. 

d? 
loak  1 


Who 


are  you 


1? 


Ahwaynain  iau  we  yun  ? 
Ahwaynain  waynftnik? 


Who  sent  you  ? 

Who  is  vour  father?         Ahwaynain  kos? 

Who  did  it? 

Wliose  (\o<x  is  it  ? 


Ahwaynain  ka«  tfldung? 
Ahwaynain  way  dyid? 


Whose  pipe  is  that?  Ahwaynain  dOpwaugiinid  en-eti? 


Whose  lodije  is  it  ? 


Whom  do 


^•k? 


Ah 
Ahv 


waynam  way  weegewomi 


d? 


lain  nain  dau  wau  bumud? 
Whom  have  you  here?     Ahwaynain  oh  omau  ai  auwaud? 

Not  the  slightest  variation  is  made  in  these  phrases,  between  who,  whose, 
and  whom. 

Should  we  wish  to  change  the  interrogative,  and  to  say,  he  who  is  there  • 
ha  who  spoke  ;  he  who  told  you,  &c.,  the  separable  personal  pronoun  ween 
(lie)  must  be  used  in  lieu  of  the  relative,  and  the  following  forms  will  be 
elicited. 


Ween,  kau  unndnik, 
Ween,  kau  geedood. 
Ween,  ai'-aud  e-mah, 
Ween,  kau  weendumoak, 
Ween,  kau  to  dung. 


He  (who)  sent  you. 
He  (who)  spoke. 
He  (who)  is  there. 
He  (who)  told  you. 
He  (who)  did  it,  &c. 


If  we  object  that,  that  in  these  forms,  there  is  no  longer  the  relative  pro- 
noun who,  the  sense  being  simply,  he  sent  you,  he  spoke,  &.c.,  it  is  replied 
that  if  it  be  intended  only  to  say,  he  sent  you,  &c.,  and  not  he  who  sent 
you,  &c.,  the  following  forms  are  used. 

Ke  gee  unnOnig.  He  (sent)  you. 

AinnOzhid,.  He  (sent)  me. 

AinnOnaud,  He  (sent)  him,  &c. 

Iau  e-raau,  He  is  there. 

Ke  geedo,  He  (spoke.) 

Kegecweendumaug,  He  (told)  you. 

Ke  to  dum,  He  did  it. 

Wo  reply,  to  this  answer  of  the  native  speaker,  that  the  particle  kau 
p.^efi.\ed  to  a  verb  denotes  the  past  tense, — that  in  the  former  serif  s  of  terms, 
in  which  this  particle  appears,  the  verbs  are  in  the  perfect  indicative, — 
and  ill  the  latter,  they  are  in  the  present  indicative,  marking  the  diP 
fcreiire  only  between  .-c/ii  and  semi,  sjmke  and  spcal'.  &c.  And  that  there 
is  al  soliitily  no  relative  pronoun,  in  either  series  of  terms.  We  further 
observe,  that  the  personal  pronoun  ween,  prefi.\ed  to  the  first  set  of  terms, 
may  be  prefi.ved  with  equal  propriety,  to  the  second  set,  and  that  its  use 
or  (lisiise,  is  perfectly  optional  with  the  speaker,  as  he  may  wish  to  give 
additional  energy  or  emphasis  to  the  expression.  To  th<se  positions, 
after  reflection,  discussion  and  examination,  wc  receive  an  assent,  and  thus 
the  uncertainty  is  terminated. 


;t: 


r 

If 


'* 


INDIAN   LANGUAGES. 


sons  are  made  happy,  and,  in  like  manner,  the  su/Hxed  personol  pronouns 
plural,  mark  the  distinctions  between  we,  ye,  they,  &c.  For  it  is  a  rule 
of  the  language,  that  a  strict  concordance  must  exist  between  the  number 
of  the  verb,  and  the  number  of  the  pronoun.  The  termination  of  the  verb 
consequently  always  indicates,  whether  there  be  one  or  many  objects,  to 
which  its  energy  is  directed.  And  as  animate  verbs  can  be  applied  only 
to  animate  objects,  the  numerical  inflections  of  the  verb,  are  understood  to 
mark  the  number  of  persons.  But  this  number  is  indiscriminate,  and 
leaves  the  sense  vague,  until  the  pronominal  suffixes  are  superadded. 
Those  who,  therefore,  contend  for  the  sense  of  the  relative  pronoun 
"who,"  being  given  in  the  last  mentioned  phrase,  and  all  phrases  similarly 
formed,  by  a  succedaneum,  contend  for  something  like  the  following  form 
of  translation : — He  makes  them  happy — him  I  or  Him — he  (meaning 
who)  makes  them  happy. 

The  equivalent  for  what,  is  Wai/gonain. 
What  do  you  want  1  Waygonain  wau  iauyun  7 

What  have  you  lost?  Waygonain  kau  wonfetOyun  1 

What  do  you  look  for?  Waygonain  nain  dahwaubundamun? 

Waygonain  ewinain  maundun  ? 

Waygonain  kau  iauyun? 

Waygonain  kau  oon  dahme  egOyun? 

Waygonain  wayzhetdyun? 

Waygonain  e-mau  iauyun  ? 

The  use  of  this  pronoun,  like  the  preceding,  appears  to  be  confined  to 
simple  interrogative  forms.  The  word  auneen,  which  sometimes  supplies 
its  place,  or  is  used  for  want  of  the  pronoun  which,  is  an  adverb,  and  has 
considerable  latitude  of  meaning.  Most  commonly  it  may  be  considered 
as  the  equivalent  for  how,  i  -  what  manner,  or  at  what  time. 
What  do  you  say?  Auneen  akeeddyun  ? 

What  do  you  call  this?  Auneen  aizheneekaudahmun  maun- 

dun? (i.) 
What  ails  you  ?  Auneen  aindeeyun  ? 

What  is  your  name?  Auneen  aizheekauzoyun? 

Which  do  you  mean;  this  c  that?  (an.)  Auneen  ah-owainud,woh-owgamau 

ewidde  ? 
Whichdoyoumean;  this  or  that?  (in.)  Auneen   eh  eu    ewaidumun    oh-oo 

gdmau  ewaidde  ? 
Which  boy  do  you  mean  ?  Auneen  ah-ow-ainud  ? 

By  adding  to  this  word,  the  particle  de,  it  is  converted  into  an  adverb  of 
place,  and  may  be  rendered  lohere. 

Where  do  you  dwell?  Auneende  aindauyun? 

Where  is  your  son  ?  Auneende  ke  gwiss  ? 

Where  did  you  see  him  ?  Auneende  ke  waubumud? 


What  is  this  ? 
What  will  you  have  ? 
What  detained  you  ? 
What  are  you  making? 
What  have  you  there  ? 


INDIAN   LANGUAQES. 


887 


pronount 
is  a  rule 
e  number 
)f  the  verb 
objects,  to 
plied  only 
ierstood  to 

iinal«t  nnd 
uperadded. 

e  pronoun 
es  similarly 
owing  form 
5   (meaning 


n1 
(undamuni 

idun? 

neegOyun' 

I? 

i1 

be  confined  to 

times  supplies 
verb,  and  has 
be  considered 


lahmun  maun- 


woh-owgamau 

lidumun    oh-oo 
I? 
? 
,to  an  adverb  of 

in? 
yumud) 


Mainwaindumcyaug, 

Mainwuindumcinnaig, 

Mainwaindumeigowaud, 


We  now  wish  to  apply  the  principle  thus  elicited  to  verbs  causative,  and 
other  compound  terms — to  the  adjective  verbs,  for  instance — and  to  the 
other  verbal  compound  expressions,  in  which  the  objective  and  the  nomi- 
native persons,  are  incorporated  as  a  part  of  the  verb,  and  are  not  prefixes 
to  it.     This  may  be  shown  in  the  causative  verb,  To  make  Happy. 

Mainwaindumgid,  He  (who)  makes  me  happy. 

Mainwaindumeik,  He  (who)  makes  thee  happy. 

Mainwaindum^aud,  He  (who)  makes  him  happy. 

Mainwaindumeinung,  He  (who)  makes  us  happy,  (inclusive.) 

He  (who)  makes  us  happy,  (exclusive.) 
He  (who)  makes  ye  or  you  happy. 
He  (who)  makes  them  happy. 
And  so  the  forms  might  be  continued,  throughout  all  the  objective 
persons. — 

Mainwaindumeyun,  Thou  (who)  makest  me  happy,  &c. 

The  basis  of  these  compounds  is  minno,  good,  and  aindum,  the  mind. 
Hence  minwaindum,  he  happy.  The  adjective  in  this  connexion,  can- 
not be  translated  "  good,"  but  its  effect  upon  the  noun,  is  to  denote  that 
state  of  the  mind,  which  is  at  rest  with  itself.  The  first  change  from  this 
simple  compound,  is  to  give  the  adjective  a  verbal  form ;  and  this  is 
effected  by  a  permutation  of  the  vowels  of  the  first  syllable — a  rule  of  very 
extensive  application — and  by  which,  in  the  present  instance,  the  phrase 
he  happy,  is  changed  to  he  makes  happy,  (mainwaindum.)  The  next  step 
IS  to  add  the  suffix  personal  pronouns,  id,  ik,  aud,  &c.,  rendering  the  ex- 
pressions, he  makes  me  happy,  &c.  But  in  adding  these  increments,  the 
vowel  e,  is  thrown  between  the  adjective-verb,  and  the  pronoun  suffixed, 
making  the  expression,  not  mainwaindum-yun,  but  mainwaindumfiyun. 
Generally  the  vowel  e  in  this  situation,  is  a  connective,  or  introduced 
merely  for  the  sake  of  euphony.  And  those  who  maintain  that  it  is  here 
employed  as  a  personal  pronoun,  and  that  the  relative  who,  is  implied  by 
the  final  inflection  ;  overlook  the  inevitable  inference,  that  if  the  marked 
c,  stands  for  me  in  the  first  phrase,  it  must  stand  for  thee  in  the  second,  he 
in  the  third,  us  in  the  fourth,  &c.  As  to  the  meaning  and  office  of  the 
final  m flections  id,  ik,  tfcc. — whatever  they  may,  in  an  involuted  sense 
imph/,  it  is  quite  clear,  by  turning  to  the  list  of  suffixed  personal  pronouns 
and  anmate  plurals,  that  they  mark  the  persons,  1,  thou,  he,  &c.,  we,  ye, 
they,  &c. 

Take  for  example,  minwaindumCigowaud.  He  (who)  makes  them 
happy.  Of  this  compound,  minwaindum,  as  before  shown,  sigrifies  he 
makes  happy.  But  as  the  verb  is  in  the  singular  number,  it  implies  that 
but  one  person  is  made  happy,  and  the  suffixed  personal  pronouns  singular, 
mark  the  distinctions  between  me,  thee,  and  ho,  or  him. 

Minwaindum-e-ig  is  the  vero   plural,  and  implies  that   several  per 


■\  If 


288 


INDIAN   LANGVAQES. 


becomes  quite  necessary  in  writing  the  langunge.     And  in  the  following 
sentences,  the  substantive  is  properly  employed  after  the  pronoun. 


This  dog  is  very  lean, 
These  dogs  are  very  lean, 

Those  clogs  are  fat, 
That  do<j  is  fat. 
This  is  a  handsome  knife. 
These  are  handsome  knives. 
Those  are  bad  knives, 
Give  me  that  spear, 
Give  me  those  spears, 
That  is  a  fine  boy, 
Those  are  fine  boys. 

This  boy  is  larger  than  that. 

That  is  what  I  wanted, 


Gilshee  biikaukdoozo  woh-ow  anncmoosh. 
Gitshee  biikauddoozowiig   o-goo  annem- 

ooshng. 
Ig-eu  annemooshug  ween-in-oawug. 
Ah-ow  anncmoosh  ween-in-ao. 
Gn''ait  onishishin  manndun  mokomahn. 
Gagait  wnhwinaudj  o-noo  mokomahnun. 
MonauJndon  in-euwaidde  mokomahnun. 
Meezhishin  eh-eu  ahnitt. 
Meezhishin  in-eu  unnewaidde  ahnitteen. 
Gagait  kvvonaiidj  ah-ow  kweewezains. 
Gagait   wahwinaudj   ig-euwaidde   kwee- 

wezainsug. 
Nahwudj  mindiddo  woh-ow  kweewezains 

ewaidde  diish. 


Meeh-eu  wau  iauyaumbaun. 
This  is  the  very  thing  I  wanted,  Mee-suh  oh-oo  wau  iauyaumbaun. 

In  some  of  these  expressions,  the  pronoun  combines  with  an  adjective, 
as  in  the  compound  words,  ineuwaidde,  and  igeuvvaidde,  those  i/07idcr,  (in,) 
and  those  yonder  (an.)  Compounds  which  exhibit  the  full  pronoun  in  co- 
alescence with  the  word  Ewaidde  yonder. 


CHRONOLOGY. 

Columbus  discovered  the  West  Indies  Oct.  12,  1492. 

Americo  Vespucio,  discovered  the  coast  of  South  America,  1497. 

Cabot  discovered  the  North  American  coast  1497. 

De  Leon  discovereJ  Florida  1512. 

Cortes,  enters  the  city  of  Me.xico,  after  a  seige,  Aug.  13,  1.521. 

Verrizani,  is  said  to  have  entered  the  bay  of  New  York,  1524. 

Cartier  discovered  the  St.  Lawrem^e,  1334. 

Jamestown,  in  Virginia,  is  founded,  1608. 

Ackiiowlcijtred  date  of  the  settlement  of  Canada,  1G08. 

T-]udson  discovers  the  livcr  bearing  his  name,  1G09. 

The  Pntch  build  a  fort  near  Albany,  1614. 

The  Pilgrims  land  at  Plymouth  Dt-c.  22,  1620. 

New  Amsterdam  taken  fmjn  the  Dutch  by  the  Duke  of  York  and  Albany 

and  named  New  York   1664. 
La  yallc  discovers  the  Illinois  in  upper  Louisaina  1678. 
discovers  Lower  Louisiana,  and  is  killed  C685. 


!  following 
in. 

innemoosh. 
00  annem* 

iwug. 

lokomahn. 

liomahnun. 

,komahnun. 

e  ahnitteen. 
ewer-ains. 
■aidde  kwee- 

kweewezains 


mbaun. 

h  an  adjective, 
)se yonder,  (in) 
Iptonoun  in  co- 


1497. 


i521. 
1524. 


■ork  and  Albany 


THE  FJ?A  OF  THE  ARIllVAL  <  >K  'J'llE  FUENCH  IN 
THE  UlTER  LAKES. 


Kk-wa-kons,  ii  chief  of  tht;  straits  of  St.  Mary  s,  told  nic,  (iiiriiitr  an  in- 
terview, ill  IS27,  that  but  seven  jreiierations  of  red  men  h.ui  passed  away, 
since  the  Freiicli  first  appeared  on  tho-se  straits.  If  wk  take  thi>  (hite  of 
Cartier's  first  visit  to  thi-  St.  Lawrence,  as  the  era  of  their  actjnairitance 
with  this  nation,  A.  1.).  1534,  we,  shfiulJ  hav(>  ')i')  y<'ars  as  the  period  of  an 
Indian  trcneiation.  Shonld  W(>  take,  instead  of  this,  the  time  of  La  Salle's 
first  arrival  on  the  upper  lakes,  1778.  there  would,  on  the  contrary,  be- but 
a  fraction  over  22  years  for  a  generation.  But  neither  of  these  periods, 
can  be  truly  said  to  coincide  with  the  probable  era  of  the  chief's  historical 
reminiscences.  The  first  is  too  early,  the  last  too  late.  An  average  of 
the  two,  which  is  rei[Mired  to  apply  thi>  observation  properly,  gives  38 
years  as  the  Indian  generation.  This  nearly  assimilates  it  to  the  results 
among  Europeans,  Iraving  8  years  excess.  Further  data  would  probably 
reduce  this  ;  but  it  is  a  department  in  which  we  have  so  little  material, 
that  we  must  leave  it  till  these  be  accumidate'i.  It  may  be  sii|)posed  that 
the  period  of  Indian  longevity,  before  the  introduction  of  ardent  spirits, 
was  equal,  perhaps,  a  little  superior,  to  that  of  the  European  ;  but  it  did 
not  exceed  it,  we  think,  by  S  years. 

Ke-wa  kons,  whom  1  knew  vi  :y  well,  was  a  man  of  shrewd  sense,  and 
respec'.able  powt^rs  of  observation.  He  stated,  at  the  same  interview,  that 
his  tribe,  who  were  of  the  Odjibwa  type  of  the  Algonquins.  laid  aside  their 
Akeelcs.  or  clay  coolcing-vesstds,  at  l/inf  (inir.aud  adopted  in  lii.'U  of  tlM-m, 
the  liizht  brass  ki'ttle,  which  was  more  portal)le  and  permanent.  And 
from  th;it  time,  their  sliill  in  pottery  deidined,  until,  in  our  day,  it  is  en- 
tin'ly  lost.  It  is  curious  to  reflect,  that  within  the  brief  period  of  l.jO 
years,  a  living  branch  of  coarse  manufacture  among  them,  has  thus  been 
transferted  into  an  object  of  antiipiarian  research.  'I'his  fact,  should  make 
historians  cautious  in  assigning  very  remote  periods  of  antiijuity  to  the 
monumental  evidences  of  bygoni!  geiu'rations. 

It  is  by  such  considerations  that  we  get  a  glimpse  of  some  of  the  gene- 
ral j)rin'-ip|is  which  attended  the  early  periods  of  discovery  nnd  settlement, 
in  all  pnts  of  the  continent.  Adventurers  came  to  find  gold,  or  furs,  to  amass 
wealth,  gel  p(nver,  or  to  p<rform  luere  exploits.  Noboily  cared  much  for 
the  native  race,  beyond  the  fjct  (T  their  iKinc:  the  mediutu  to  lead  to  these 


il 


i  I 


290 


FLUiHT    OF    THR    Sll  A  WNKKS. 


specitioJ  objects.  TlitTO  wore  none,  to  rocoid  accnriitcly,  their  arts,  and 
other  ppi'iiliarities,  wliich  now  excite  intense  interest.  'I'hey  died  away 
very  Cast,  whole  tribes  biH'oinint,^  exluict  witiiia  a  iiericralion  or  two.  The 
European  fabrics,  then  iiil!oilui(>(i,  were  so  much  superior  to  their  own, 
that  tiiey,  at  oni'e,  (H.-icontinui  li  sucli  ruiie  arts  as  thev  j)rarti,<tM!,  at  ierist  in 
our  nurtl)i>rri  lalitirles.    New  adveiiturer.s  liillowed  in  tht!  track'  of  Coin 


in- 


lU? 


Au>i 


vi<j;o.  ( "iihof,  and  i.li'ir  conipeerf  and  followers,  w  ho,  in  the  lajise 


of  time,  piclit;.! 


U|1, 


n  tlx!  soil,  pieces  of  coarse  pottery,  jiestlts  and  such 


lice  thni:,'-s,  and  holduiu'  them  up,  saii 


. — '-.See  these 


here  are  evidences 


of  very  i[|-,.,,t  skill,  and  very  hiuii  antiquity." 

It  is  not  tlie.  intention  by  any  means,  to  assert,  that  there  wero  not  anti- 
quities of  a  far  higher  era,  and  nobler  ca.ste,  hut  merely  to  impress  upon  in- 
quirers, the  necessity  of  discriminatinq- the  different  eras  in  the  chronology 
of  our  an'.iipiities.  All  India'i  pottery,  north  of  the  cpes  of  Florida  and 
the  rjnlf  of  Mexico,  is  of,  or  preceding.''  the  era  of  the  discovery  ;  but  there 
is  found  in  cfraves,  a  species  of  potiery,  and  vitrilied  ware,  which  wns  in- 
troduced, in  the  early  sta',res  of  traffic,  by  Europeans.  Of  this  transition 
era  between  the  dyio'j^  ,iway  of  the  fudian  arts,  and  the  intatductiou  of  the 
Europeau.  ari!  tin;  rudi;  pistrs,  enamel  and  e-|:iss  he  eis,  and  .slunt  clay 


pip 


rs  of  coarse  texture,  found  in  Indian  cemcieries,  but  not  in  the  tuiruili. 


In  place  of  thi.'Si'.  our  ancient  ludims  used  wrou^^lu  an  1  uiiwiouitIu  sea 
she!l.->  of  various  sjiecies,  and  jiipes  carveii  (jiu  of  seatites  and  other  soft 
materials. 


Mr.  Anderson  remarks  in  his  biograpliy  of  Catharine  Brown,  that 
"  the  Cherokees  are  said  to  jiosstss  a  lanjjua<re,  whicli  is  more  precise  and 
powerful  than  aiiv"  into  which  ieaiiiin,r  has  poured  richiiiss  of  thouj^rlitj  or 
genius  br(;athed  the  enchanlineiits  of  I'lncy  and  eloijuctice." 

Divid  IJroun,  in  one  of  iiis  litters,  in  the  same  volume,  tev;ns  his  peo- 
ple the  Tsallakee,  of  \\hi(di  wo  must  therefore  take  '' Vherrdiee  "  to  he  a 
corruption.  It  is  seen  by  the  (Jherukee  alphuijet,  that  the  sound  of  r  docs 
not  occur  in  that  lanyuaye. 

F  A  1  T  ti . 

When  Chusco  was  converted  to  Christianity  at  the  mission  of  iSlichi- 
lina'ckinac,  he  had  planted  a  (iild  of  potatoes  on  one  of  tlie  tiei:,rhbouriniT 
islands  in  lake  Muion.  In  tla;  fill  lie  went  over  in  his  canoe,  with  his 
ajred  wife,  to  (li:^  thfrn— a  lai'our  whi'di  the  (ild  woman  si  t  uni'eicmoni- 
ously  ;'bout,  as  snon  as  lhev;.''ot  into  the  field.  '".Stop'"'  cried  tln' little  old 
man,  who  had  a  small  tnior  voice  and  was  bent  neailv  double  by  a^e. — 
"daro  you  bcLrin  to  di;j,  liil  we  ha'.'<'  th.iokcd  t!ie  Lord  for  tlieir  Lrro^vth." 
They  then  hith  knelt  ilown  in  the  field,  while  he  lilted  up  his  voice,  in 
his  native  ianL,'ua;re,  in  tliariUs. 


arts,  and 

vo.     Tlic 
neir  DW'i 
Hi  Icrisi  in 
of  Colniti- 
II  the  I;'!'**- 
s  :iii'l  such 
f  i-vultiioi'S 

ro  not  anti- 
,,ys  upon  iu- 
t-hroiiology 
pioiiila  and 
y  ;  but  there 
i»K-!i  wiis  in- 
iiis  transition 
liR-tion  ol"  the 

n:\  r'h.Ml  »;!">' 

in  tho  tuniuli. 
nv,-.-.us'lH  s.>a 
;uid  Other  soft 


IJrovvn,    that 

|n,v  pr.cisc  and 

uf  ihoui^^ht,  or 

K'Vtris  his  peo- 

Lund  of  r  does 


lesion  of  'SV\ch\- 
L   ni'i-hl.ourius 

Icanor,  wi'd>    l''S 
ls,t  uniTVtMnoui- 

11,,'dlholilll'^"^'^ 
„nl)lc,  hy  ai.H'-— 


„•  ih'Mr  Lfi-o 


u-th," 


.-..,^^uA-V\OSSINS,  OR   IMACiE  STONES. 

The  nativo  tril)os  wlio  occupy  the  borders  of  tho  throat  lakes,  nrp  vorv 
intronious  in  converting  to  tln'  uses  of  i^uperstition,  isnch  masses  o(  jnose 
rock',  or  l*onlii».'r  stones,  as  iiavc  Ikmii  fritted  by  tiie  action  of  water  into 
shapes  resembling  the  trunks  of  liuniun  boliis,  nr  oilier  oriranic  forms. 

There  appi'ars,  ;it  all  time?;,  to  liavi;  lieen  a  ready  disposition  to  turn 
such  in;isscs  of  rude  natural  sculpture,  so  to  call  tliem,  to  tin  idnliitrous 
use  ;  as  well  us  a  most  ingenious  tact,  in  aiding  Uie  clllx't  of  the  natural 
resemblance,  hy  dots  or  dabs  of  paint,  to  denote  eyis,  and  other  features, 
or  by  rings  of  red  ochre,  around  theii-  circuiiiference,  iiy  way  of  orna- 
ment. 

In  the  following  figures,  1,2,  3,  4,  5.  some  of  these  masses  are  repre- 
sented. 


un  his   voice, 


in 


Nuiuher  n.  was  hionglit  to  tiie  oill.'t;  of  I'lO  Li'iian  Agi-nt  ai  Mici;:ii- 
in.if  kiiiac  iti  1^3.t,  and  jihiccd  anion;;-  i''je"~  of  iiii-h.igo:.,--  iou''!.  ;!  '  , 
vlslti'is.  It  cansi.«teil  id'  a  p.tiiinn  of  a  '.cin  v:  u:  i---  i"  g!i'-i::s  or  LTain'-  . 
from  wl\ich  both  niii  a  ai.il  f''kb[Kir  WiTt-  ii.'arlv  -.1  • 'ot.  evi^ti.ag  i.miv  m 
!r:ici',  while  the  quarlzv  portion  predciminated,  a!'.ii  h  d.  !.y  its  si.'pi-ri  ;• 
hiiidmss,  resisted  the  elemental  action.  The  mciile  of  the  for;itMtii'0  mC  .-nch 
masses  is  \i>rv  well  kn'i-.vii  lo  •.;i':.i!o'j;i,~t.^  rcsiiltinL,'-,  in  alnm.^t  cverv  case, 
frnm  the  unequal  dc'^-iTe  of  hi,-diii'.--s  I'd'  various  p, ins  of  a  mass,  siib- 
miui'd  to  an  e([nal  force  of  atliition,  sucii  as  is  ordinarily  given  hy  tfio 
iijdi('avin;,i-  and  rolling  force  of  waves  on  a  laki',  or  ocean  beach  'J"o  tho 
natU'S.  who  are  not  pione  to  reason  from  cause  toeHe'.t,  such  produ-  tions 
appear  wondeiful.  All  that  is  past  compreli('nsion.  or  wondi'rfnl,  is 
vttiihuted  by  ihein  to  the  s'lpernatural  agiaicy  of  sjiirits.     The  hunter  or 

291 


.  i 


■:  M^- 


C9-2 


SlltNUAMA    WOSSINS,    UH    IMACiK    STONKh. 


tt:irrii)r,  who  is  trnvelliiiL,''  along  the  const,  and  finds  ono  of  lliese  self- 
Si.nlpttiiJ'd  stones,  is  not  sure  that  it  is  not  a  direct  interposition  of  his 
<iod,  or  guardian  Manito,  in  his  favour.  He  is  habitunlly  a  heliover  in 
tlie  most  subtle  forms  of  mysterious  power,  which  he  acknowledges  to  he 
olien  delegated  to  tlie  native  priests,  or  necromancers.  He  is  not  stag- 
gered by  the  most  extraordinary  stretch  of  fancy,  in  the  tiieory  of  the 
change  or  transformation  of  animate  into  inanimate  objects,  and  vice 
vers:i.  All  things,  "  in  heaven  and  earth,"  he  believes  to  be  subject  to 
■  tliis  subtle  power  of  metamorphosis.  But,  whatever  be  the  precise  ope- 
rating cause  of  the  respect  he  pays  to  the  imitative  rolled  stones,  which 
ho  calls  Shingaba-wossins,  and  also  by  the  general  phrase  of  Miiz-in-in- 
a-wiin,  or  imageS;  he  is  not  at  liberty  to  pass  them  without  hazarding 
something,  in  his  opinion,  of  his  chance  of  success  in  life,  or  the  fortuno 
of  the  enterprize  in  hand. 

If  the  image  be  small,  it  is  generally  taken  with  him  and  secreted  in 
the  neighborhood  of  his  lodge.  If  large  and  too  heavy  for  this  purpose, 
it  is  set  up  on  the  shore,  generally  in  some  obscure  nook,  where  an  offer- 
ing of  tobacco,  or  something  else  of  less  value,  may  lie  made  to  it,  or 
rather  through  it,  to  the  spirit. 

In  182U  one  of  these  stones  (No.  2.)  was  met  by  an  expedition  of  the 
government  sent  north,  that  year,  for  the  purpose  of  interior  discovery 
and  observation,  at  theinntrThunder  Bay  island,  in  Lake  Huron.  It  was 
a  massy  stone,  rounded,  witli  a  comparatively  broad  base  and  entablature 
but  not  otherwise  remarkable.  It  was  set  up,  under  a  tree  on  the  island, 
which  was  small,  with  the  wide  and  clear  expanse  of  the  lake  in  plain 
view.  The  island  was  on(>  of  those  which  were  regarded  as  desert,  and 
was  probably  but  seldom  stopped  at.  It  was,  indeed,  little  more  than  a  few 
acres  of  botil  lers  and  pebbles,  accumulated  on  a  limestone  reef,  and  bear- 
ing a  few  stunted  trees  and  shrubs.  The  water  of  the  lake  must,  in  high 
storms,  have  thrown  its  spray  over  this  imaged  stone.  It  was,  in  fine,  one 
of  i}i(isi>  private  places  which  an  Indian  might  be  supposed  to  have  se- 
lected for  bis  secret  worship. 

In  No.  3.  is  fi^;ured  an  object  of  this  kind,  which  was  found  in  1832, 
in  the  final  ascent  to  the  source  of  the  Mississippi,  on  the  right  cape,  in 
!iS(-eiidin!Ttbis  s^tream  into  lac  Traverse — at  the  distance  of  about  1000 
miles  above  the  falls  of  St.  Anthony.  I  lamled  at  the  point  to  see  it,  hav- 
ing heard,  fioin  my  interpreter,  that  such  an  object  was  set  up  and  dedi- 
cated to  some  unknown  Manito  there.  It  was  a  plea.^ant  level  point  of 
land  slKuled  with  trees,  and  bearing  luxuriant  grass  and  wild  shrubbery 
and  flowers.  In  the  middle  of  this  natural  parterre  the  .stone  waS  placed, 
and  was  overtojiped  by  this  growth,  and  thus  concealed  by  it.  A  ring  of 
red  paint  enci'cled  it,  at  the  firs^t  narrowed  point  of  its  circumference,  to 
'rive  it  the  resenittlance  of  a  liunian  neck  :  and  there  were  some  rude 
dabs  to  denote  other  features.     The  Indian  is  not  precise  in  the  matter  of 


SIIINU.VUA    W0S.SIN8,    OK     lMA»il;    Sl't)M:.>S. 


i'J3 


htse  self- 
rin  of  his 
,flii!ver  in 

lljreS  to   1)6 

s  not  stag- 
ory  of  the 
i,  and  vice 

subject  to 
precise  ope- 
ones,  which 
f  M\iz-in-in-  1 

It  hazanling 

the  foituno 

[1  secreted  in 
this  purpose, 
here  an  ofler- 
nade  to  it,  or 

j)edition  of  the 
irior  discovery 
4uron.    It  was 
nd  entablature 
.  on  the  island, 
lake  in  plni" 
as  desert,  and 
lore  than  a  few 
reef,  and  hear- 
^  must,  in  high 
vas,  in  fine,  one 
posed  to  have  se- 

found  in  183'2, 
le  ri"ht  cape,  in 
of  about   1000 
lint  to  see  it,  hav- 
Igft  npand  dedi- 
It  level  point  of 
wild  shrubbery 
Lone  was  placed, 
L  it.     A  ling  of 
li-iicumference,to 

Iwrre  some  rude 
u  the  matter  of 


proportion,  eillier  in  liis  (Jrawinir,  or  in  liis  atlMiijitsnt  ^t.^tuary.  I  lo  seizes 
upon  some  luiiiiite  aiiil  I'liaracti'iisiic  tiait.  ^vl^i^■h  is  at  oinf  MiiiiL-n  nt  lo  de- 
note the  speri.ei,  anil  tic  is  iMsily  .s.itisfied  ahinil  llic  rest,  'J'iiiis  :i  sihijiiu 
cross,  with  a  s'trait  lino  (Voiti  sliouulcr  lo  sImuMit.  an  i  ;i  lui.  nr  I'l.cle 
ahuvc.  to  scrvi'  ilir  a  Ik'  !i!.  i.>  llic  syinl  oi  of  tlir  liiiinun  Ii.iUpc  .  a.i  .  w  .'..  'nit 
any  a.lj'iiii't  of  left,  or  li.m  Is,  ii  ciniU  nm  line  Im'(  u  iiii>i,ilcrii  i  >.  uv 
thiiiif  I'Isc — ctMtaiiily  fur  any  oilier  olijrit  in  ilic  aiiim  :1  oh  ain  n. 


\1.\EM()MC  SYMBOLS  OF  THE  NORTH  AMLUU'AN  INDlAiNS. 


C  H  A  P  T  E  1{    I . 

PRELIMINARY  llKMAHK:*. — SV.MI1()I.ICAL  RKI'llKSl'.N TATIONS  AM)  lIlElSOIil.YrlllCS,  ONK  OI'  TlIF 
KAHl.lESr  OUSKllVKD  TIIAIIS  IN  TIIK  CISIOMS  AM)  AHTS  OF  TIIK  AM  EllHAN  AilOllI- 
taXKS;  HL T  I'llia  AKT  NOT  81  SPEOTEI)  TO  HAVE  A  SVKTEMA  I'lC  KOllM  A.MONIi  TIIK  HI'DR 
IIINTEII  TRII1K8  OF  XOIITII  AMERH^A,  UNTIL  THE  YEAR  1820,  WHEN  IT  WA8  UIH- 
COVERED  ON  THE  BOfRCE  OF  THE  MIR8IB8lrri.  THIS  INSTANCE  GIVEN,  WITH  A  DRAW- 
LNG  :    THE    HINT    PL'IISIJEI). 

Tmk  practice  of  the  North  American  tribes,  of  drawing  figures  and 
pictures  on  skins,  trees,  and  various  other  substances,  has  been  noticed 
by  travellers  and  writers  from  the  earliest  times.  Among  the  more  north- 
erly tribes,  tlieso  figiiros  ar(^  often  obs.Mved  on  that  common  snlistitnte  for 
the  ancirnt  pipyriis.  ainoriL;-  these  nations,  tlie  l)ark  of  the  helula  jjujii/rnrea, 
or  white  birch:  ii  siibsiancn  iiossessinga  smooth  surface,  easily  impressed, 
very  fle.vible,  and  capahli.'  of  being  preserved  in  rolls.  (Jfteii  these  devi- 
ces are  cnt.  or  drawn  iii  cdlours  on  the  trunks  of  treis,  more  rarely  on 
rocks  or  l.oiildors.  According  to  Colden  and  Lafitou  records  of  this  rude 
character  were  formerly  tobcb^Len  ci.m  the  llazed  surfaceof  trees.  aloiiLTSoini: 
of  the  anciiTit  piths  and  portages  leading  from  the  sources  of  the  Atlan- 
tic rivers  into  the  intciior,  or  in  tiu'  valli'V  of  the  St.  Lawrence  ;  but 
these,  after  satisfying  a  transient  curiosity,  have  long  since  yielded  to  the 
general  fate  of  these  simple  and  unenduring  luoiiiiinents.  Pictures  and 
symbols  of  tlii.^  kind  ar(;  now  to  be  found  only  on  the  unreelaiined  bdr- 
ders  of  the  grent  aiea  west  of  the  Alle^hanies  and  the  Lakes,  in  the 
wide  prairies  n{  the  we.st.  or  along  the  .Mi.ssouii  am!  the  iipjier  .Mis.si&- 
ti]ipi.  It  is  known  that  tiich  de\  ice.s  were  in  ikn-,  to  Sdine  extent,  at  the  era 
of  tile  discoveiv.  among  iiio.-:t  nt  the  tiil^es,  situated  1  tiweeii  the  latitudes 
nl'  the  (M|!cs  of  Florid.i.  aiiij  Mud.-^nn".-^  li.iy.  allhonnh  they  have  l)een 
considered  a;>  more  j)aiticiil:i:'ly  charaetei  istic  dC  the  tiities  of  tlie  Al'.,''oii. 
(|uin  tv|)i'.  In  a  few  instmces,  thes!>  ['.ieidiial  iii3eri|'.tiiins  have  been  loiind 
to  hi  painted  or  staineij  on  the  f,;ce.s  ni'  ro^'ks.  or  on  Imse  hoiilh.'iS,  Mid 
still  null";'  rarely.  deNires  weie  s.'iatclied  or  peeked  into  the  .siiifiee.  as  ;s 
i'oniid  to  !'(■  the  ca.s,'  ^Mll  at  I 'I'-htdU  aiiii    \'eni:i.'.>.    'l'ho^e  \\:\^  a;e  intent 


294 


AUr    OF    I'K    IlKIO    WKITINO. 


on  obscrvMtinris  nf  iliis  kind,  \^  ill  liml  fitriins  nntl  rude  hiero'^'lyplnrs  in 
vari:il)ly  ai  ihf  iPic^-i'iil  lime,  on  tlw  irinvc  posts  which  tniirlc  ilw.  yUcai 
of  Indiim  si'|iii|i'jiif  ;it  the  wcxt  nii  I  iioiih.  The  iintioiis  who  rov*>  ovor 
the  Wf.sli'iii  piiiii  its,  inscrihf  llitiri  on  the  skins  uf  the  ItiiirMo.  iS'nilh  of 
Intitmlo  ■li'',  till!  Iiii'l;  of  ihn  hir-h,  whii'li  fiiinishf.s  nt  once  tin.'  nrilp- 
rial  of  cinioi'S,  tints,  boxes.  wMtei'-iiipjieis.  and  paj^er,  constitutes  i!ie  com- 
moil  initlinni  of  their  exhibition.  'Jai.hts  ol'  Ii;iril  wood  arc  ronlinc.l  to 
such  (li.'vifes  as  are  enijiioyed  by  tlieir  priests  and  prophets,  and  nieilinne- 
men;  and  these  eharacters  nniCoriniy  assume  a  nioie  mystical  or  suMcd 
import.  1)1!'  the  recent  discovery,  on  one  of  tho  tributaries  of  the  Siis- 
qtieJKinna.  of  an  Indian  map,  drawn  on  stone,  with  intermixed  devices,  a 
copy  of  which  ii|)i)ears  in  the  1st  volume  of  the  collections  of  the  Ili.stor- 
ical  Conwnilteo  of  the  American  Philosophical  Society,  proves  that  stono 
was  also  employed  in  that  branch  of  inscription.  This  discovery  was  on 
the  area  occupied  by  the  Lenapees. 

Colden,  ill  his  history  of  the  Five  Nations,  •  informs  us  that  when,  in 
IG'.»G,  the  Count  de  Fiontenac  marched  a  well  appointed  army  into  the 
Iroquois  country,  with  artillery  and  all  other  means  of  regular  military 
ofl'ence,  he  found,  on  the  banks  of  the  Onondaga,  now  called  Oswego 
river,  a  tree,  on  the  trunk  of  which  the  Indians  had  depicted  tho  French 
army,  and  deposited  two  bundles  of  cut  rushes  at  its  foot,  consisting  of 
1434  pieces — an  act  of  defiance  on  their  part,  which  was  intended  to  in- 
form their  invaders,  that  they  would  liave  to  encounter  this  number  of 
warriors.  In  speakin.nf  in  another  passage  of  the  general  traits  of  the 
Five  Nations,  he  mentions  the  general  custom  prevalent  among  the  Mo- 
hawks going  to  war,  of  painting,  with  red  paint,  on  the  trunk  of  a  tree, 
such  symbols,  as  might  serve  to  denote  the  object  of  their  e.vpedition. 
Among  tlie  devices  was  a  canoe  pointed  towards  the  enemies'  country. 
On  their  return,  it  was  tl;t;ir  practice  to  visit  the  same  tree,  or  precinct, 
and  denote  thu  re.^ult :  tlio  canoe  being,  in  this  case,  drawn  with 
its  bows  in  the  opposite  direction.  Lafitou,  in  his  account  of  the  nations 
■•!'  ("aiueda,  make^  oliservations  on  this  subject  to  which  we  shall  more 
pariiiularly  refer  hereafter,  which  denote  the  general  prevalence  of  the 
custom  in  that  quarter.  (Jtlier  writers,  dating  as  far  back  as  Smith  and 
de  lire,  bear  a  passing  testimony  to  the  e.xistence  of  this  trait  among  the 
iiorlliern  trib;\s.  Few  have  however  done  more  than  notice  it,  and  none 
are  know'ti  to  have  furnished  any  amount  of  connected  details. 

A  single  element  in  the  system  attracted  early  notice.  I  allude  to  the 
institution  of  tfie  Totem,  which  has  been  well  known  among  the  Al- 
gonquin tribes  from  the  settlement  of  Canada.  By  this  device,  the  early 
missionaries  observed,  that  the  natives  marked  their  division  of  a  tribe 
into  clans,  and  of  a  clan  into  families,  and  the  distinction  was  thus  very 
clearly  preserved.     Affinities  were  denoted  and  kept  up,  long  after  tradi 

•  London,  1747,  p.  190. 


THi:    ART    OF    PKTlRi:    WHITINd. 


iOO 


ti(*ti  li  1 1  i'l.li' I  ill  its  ti'stiiiioiiy.     'I'liis  ili-tlri'tidii,  uliidi  i^  ni.irkt;:!  with 

illllrll  .:f   till'  C»'lt.|illfy  of   hfi'li.lii'   l";,ilillJL;.S   ill  lln-  li'llilill  S_\>lL|U,   \\:iS  Sl'l'R 

tn  mill,  til"  :iriiif:.  lilt!   Iiiiii^rc,  tiiid  tlii' tr(i|iliirs  of  thi'  cliiff  iiinl    wiirrior. 
It  WIS  lii<i'\\ist'  oin|ili)yii|  to  i.rivi,'  iilculiiy  to  llie  rlmi,  oC  wliioli   lie  \v:i.s  a 


r.irUirr 

i.i'iii'iir.i'ti 


tV 


■   ;i(i  ji.-ilirtfir  or  gi'iive-p<i>t.      'I'lii.s   Kcmij  wm!    lint  littlo 
>lt(iLis  or  L't'ciivtric  dcvicf.";  wcic  driwn  (in  tliisu  simple 


ts.  to  ili'Diite  llie  iiiiiiil"'r  of  iiii'ii  In-  hiiij  .-.lain  i)i  Imtil 


it  h. 


s  (iiit  I  (Mil  siiS|i('Ct>'il    ill  liny  nolici  .-i  til  w  li! 


I  ii 


had 


IIL'I'I  >S, 


Ilia;  111!  !■(.■  'Va- 


•1  |iii'iiii-ia!  aljiliabi't. 


Ill'  a  Sfiii'.s 


■  f 


'111 ijilioir Ills  fi^fiin?s,  in 


,  lii''li.  I'v  till' jii.\taii(i.''itioii  oC  .>yiiib'>ii'  rcjiK X'litiin;' nets,  as  \v<  11  asolijfctd 

.•iimpli-  ii'lj^iii  •!  fiiiriis,  a  sciirs  i.i|  dis- 
.  wi'i f  di  iioti  il :  or  ilial  tlu'  most  proni- 


il  actiiai.  am!  v:  w-  iiiti'oJiH  ti^ii  i 


jiiii.'tivi',  vi't  '.'■'■iH'riilly  C'laiii'iMc  1  i 


llicilt  Itli'Kl'.'lltS  I 


if    liCr. 


ddcat! 


1  roll 


II   I 


II'  I'l't'onii 


I  ai)  as  to  lio  tr  iiismiltcil 


(Voiii 


(MIC  iiciii'Caiioii  to  aii'ilh'N',  iis  lolly  at  li  a^t  a>  the  iiioiiiiihci.t  an 


1  fh 


]icn|i|!'  endiiriil.  Ahovi'  all.  it  \\a.»;  not  :iiiticipai(d  that  tlicif  slmiild  liavo 
til  en  fuiiiil.a.s  will  be  uliscrvcil  in  tin;  siiLsi'iini'iit  d.t  lils,  a  systi'in  of  sym- 
Iiolic  notation  for  tlie  songs  and  iin'antations  of  tin.'  Indian  inetas  and 
jiritst.*,  inaKiii  T  an  ii|)pt'il  to  the  nicinory  for  tlir  prt"«:('i'vati()ii  of  laiiifiiair(}. 


r,'i-soi! 


s  lanuliar  with  tlic  st.ile  ol  tin;  wt'st(.'Ui  \\-\\»i  ot  tins  continent, 


partictilaily  in  tliti  liitrhcr  nortln.'ni  laiitu  IcP,  h.ive  lonif  liccn  awar^'  that 
th(>  soiii,''S  of  tlie  Indian  priesthood,  niul  walicnoi'.s,  woie  siiii*^  fiotn  a  kind 
oC  j'iotorial  notation,  made  on  harlc.     It  is  a  fact  which  has  often  come  to 


iliscrvation  of  niilitarv  olTic 


pcrforniinij  diiti*  s  on 


tlio?!'  frontier';. 


!iad  of  persons  exercising  occasional  ilmiis  in  civil  life,  who  have  passed 
'JiiMHixh  their  tt'rritarii>s  Bit  there  is  no  class  of  persons  to  whom  the 
fii't  of  such  notations  belncf  made,  is  so  well  known,  as  tlic  cla.>s  of  Indian 
traders  and  interpreters  who  visit  or  reside  a  part  of  the  season  at  the 
Indian  viila'^es.  I  haVe  iiev(n'  conveisi-d  with  any  of  this  latter  class  of 
persons  to  whom  th('  fact  of  such  inscriptions,  nsade  in  various  ways,  was 
net  so  funiliar  as  in  their  view  to  excite  no  surprise  or  even  demand  re- 
mark. 

My  attention  was  first  called  l(j  t!ii.'  -^iiliiect  in  {."^'^O.  In  the  sninnier 
of  that  year  I  was  on  an  ex]i!oriiic;  joniiicy  throuirh  the  lake  country.  At 
(he  inoiith  of  the  small  river  Huron,  on  the  hanks  of  Lake  Superior, 
,'liere  was  an  Indian  q;rav('  fenced  around  with  siplinors,  and  protected 
0  itii  mueli  care.  .At  its  I;,  a  I  stood  a  post,  or  tabular  stick,  upon  which 
ivas  drawn  the  fieine  of  theaniinal  which  was  the  symbol  of  the  clan  to 
ivhich  the.  deceased  chief  bt  lonycvl.  Strok(>s  of  red  paint  were  added  to 
lenote,  either  the  number  of  war  parties  in  which  he  had  been  eni^ajred, 
or  the  number  of  scalps  which  he  had  actually  taken  from  the  enemy. 
The  interpreter  wlio  accompanied  lis,  and  who  was  himself  tinctured  with 
Indian  Mood,  srave  the  latter,  as  the  true  import  of  these  marl.s. 

On  (putting  the  river  St.  Louis,  which  flows  into  the  head  of  the  lake 


at 


the  Fond  dn  Lac,  to  cross  the  summit  dividingf  its  waters  from  those  of 


800 


TIIK    AUT    Ol"    I'K  TURK    WniTlNO. 


iho  Mississippi,  the  wny  led  throiiifli  liciivy  nnd  dense  woods  and  swamps 
nnd  the  wcuther  proved  dark  nnd  rainy,  so  tlint,  for  ii  couple  cf  diiys  to 
gether,  we  hud  sciircely  a  glimpse  of  the  sun. 

The  pnrty  consisted  of  sixteen  persons,  with  two  Indian  guidis  ;  bu'. 
the  hitter,  with  ail  their  adroitmss  in  threading  the  maze,  were  eonipKlt  ly  at 
fault  for  nearly  an  entire  day.  At  night  wo  lay  down  on  ground  eh  valed 
but  a  few  inches  abovi-  the  level  of  the  swamp.  'I'he  m-xt  moriiiiiL'  n» 
we  j)rep;ired  to  leave  the  camp,  a  small  sheet  of  liirch  bark  coMi.iiiniiy  de- 
vices was  observed  elevated  on  the  top  of  a  sapling,  some  .*<  cr  lu  f 1 1 1 
high.  One  etid  of  this  pole  was  thrust  firmly  into  the  ground  Iriiinii::  ii' 
the  direction  we  weri' to  go.  On  going  up  to  this  object,  it  w  is*  loiiiil, 
with  the  aid  of  tho  inter|)reter,  to  be  a  symbolic  record  of  thi^  circum- 
stances of  our  crossing  this  snuunit,  and  of  the  night's  encampment  at  this 
spot.  Each  person  was  appropriately  ilepicte(l,di!<iinguiMhing  t'lcsohiiers 
fri)m  the  olRcer  in  conunand,  and  the  latter  from  the  scavaiis  of  the  |)nrty 
The  Indians  themselves  wt^e  depicted  without  hats,  this  being,  as  we  nn- 
ticed,  the  general  symbol  for  a  white  man  or  Kuropeaii.  The  i  ntirr 
record,  of  which  a  figure  is  annexed,  accurately  symbolized  the  circum- 
stances, and  they  were  so  clearly  drawn,  according  to  their  conventional 
rules,  that  the  intelligence  would  be  communicated  thereby  to  any  of  their 
people  who  might  chance  to  travel  or  wander  this  way.  Thii  was  \hc 
object  of  the  inscription. 


<wlJJ 


-^v  ri 


/)  A/'  /\    A'. 


i^.  -g^,  p  y 


VI  \J         'V       //,  //        / 


-^VA 


Fig.  No.  1.  rejjresents  the  subaltern  officer  in  command  of  tne  partj' 
of  >Iie   ('.   S.  troops.     He  is  drawn  with  a  sword  to  denote  his  cfficm) 


TIIK    ART   OK    PICTI  hi:    WRIT  I  NO. 


SO*; 


iwamps 
days  w 

Ira  ;  bir. 
p\ii.  ly  i'l 
tl.  v.iU'vi 
)riimi.'  !>• 

liiiiiiv;  >''■■ 
^,r  10  I"' 
i.'iiiiiii;.'  Ill 
,:\»   loilll'.i. 
10  circvun- 

r,  as  we  11"- 

The,  »iil'"''' 
til,,  i-iicum- 

,  a,iy  of  their 
rhii  was  ihc 


KS^K(\ 


of  tne  partj' 

lot.>  bis  omcia! 


rank.     No,  2  demurs  llio  jn  rsi>ii  \vhi>  dllii  i  I'fl   in  (|imlity  nf  Stcrotnry. 


lie  jj  rcprt'Si'Mti'il  liuliliiii,'  II  Im 


No  ;t  ilciicili  s  ilii'  tiroliMMst  mill  niiii- 


rr;ili)i,'ist  ol  tin-  |Kirty.     lie  is  ilrawri  ui|li  a  liiiiiimi'i'.      Nns  4  ill '  .">  are 
alt'iilios  ;  N'i>  ♦">,  tiif  intiTpn'tiT. 


The  jri'OM|)  i.r  (iLTiirr!*  niinkfil  '.'  rt'pn'^'  ni.'  ci'/lii  inliintrv 


Sill  III  I",  rili'll 


of  wliuni,  ii:i  fliowii  ill  ijrinip  Nn   in.  w,i>  iiriiuii  with  a  iiiii«l»i!       No,    |.'» 
■ii'imti'S  tli;it  liny  li.'il  ii    >'i'paintr    (lie,  iiinl    i'Mii»'iiiiii' I    a  sipiiaif   iiu'Sm. 


H'.s  7  aiiil  ^  iii'f  ll;r  two  Chipprwa  i.Miiilts.  tin'  ] 


niT-il'al   111    ',\iiiiiM, 


Fii;i 

rallt'il  ( 'InniiTS.  or  the  i'liuni  iiiir  Inwlc.  !■  J  tlic  way  hmt  tin-.  'I.tai  v  Mr.;\- 

mil.     'J'lirsi' air  ilii'  iiiilv  Iniiiiiii   IIl'^hh  >  on  tlli^  iiiiii|ii"  I'aili  Ic'ii  i.  \\\u> 


nri'  (Ira nil  wi 


limit  a  lial       'I'lii.s  wa.s  tin'  cliaiiKMcrisii.'  m  i/i  d  mi 


liV  -h 


I'm, 


mill  i,'< 


I  ifi'iii-rallv  i':iii)l>Vi'il  liv  thi'  Irilirs.  to  i|isiiii'_nii>'li  'hr  I'l- 1  I'l'iiii  liir  w  liili 


rac'iv  rii,'iiri'.s  II  aiiil  l\l  |•t■pn•^'l■llt  a  praiiii'  litii.  ainl  a  yiicn  |,iiIiiim>, 
whicli  cmistifiiti'il  tin'- sum  of  tin-  pit'ct'ijiiiij^  day  ■•* 'lia*'.  ainl  wtTi' fatfii 
at  till'  »'iicampiiifiit.  Tin-  iiu'liiialimi  of  tlic  polf.  \',a>  i|i'si!.nir.l  to  show 
the  course  pursui'!  fioiii  that  pirtii'iilar  spot  :  iheic  werr  ihri'i'  liai'kM  in 
it.  Iiilow  llie  scroll  of  hark,  to  indicate  the  estimainl  !(ii;,'-th  of  this  part 
(if  the  joiirni'y.  coinputiiiij  from  water  to  water,  that  i.s  to  say,  from  the 
lii'ad  of  the  poititre  Aiix  (>i)Uteauxoii  the  St.  fjouis  river,  to  the  open  shores 
of  .Sandy  lake,  die  F\a-iTia-ton-n:o-^'otn-aij  of  the  Odjihwas. 

The  story  was  thus  liriefly  and  simply  told  ;  and  this  memorial  wab 
yet  up  hy  the  guides,  to  advertise  any  of  their  countrymen,  who  mit^ht 
chance  to  wander  in  that  direction,  of  the  adventure — for  it  wa.s  evident, 
both  from  this  tolien,  and  from  the  duliioiismse  which  Iiai!  marked  the 
prior  day's  wanderiii'fs.  that  they  ri'.iarili'd  the  passage  in  this  liL^ht,  and 


icre  willin'f  to  talce  soini'  cri'dit  (or  the  succevsl'nl  cxccinion  of  it. 


Rcfo 


ore  we  iiad  pemtrate'l  ipiite  to  tins  .-■■inimut.  we  came  to  aiiothrr 
evidence  of  their  slcill  in  this  spccirs  of  kiiowicdL."',  cmisi.^tinir  dC  (iiic  iif 
tli.i?e  contrivances  which  they  denomiiiati^  Man-i-to-wati^ir.  or  .Manito 
P0I1.S.     On   reachinr^  this   our  irnidcs  shonti'd.  wlii'tluT  iVmii  a  supersti- 


tions impulse,  or  the  joy  ol   jiavint,' 


f  h 


roiiini 


II  Sliol  tlicy  rcrlailil 


mil  ,  reC' 


orrnize,  wo  could    not  tell,     AVr  jiidyid  the  latter.     It  c.iii>i.'-tr  1  nf  ci'^-ht 


poles,   ot  f'lpial    len^tli,  sh.aveit    smooth   an.l   ro,iii;l.  paintcMJ  w 


.illi   yelhn 


cure,  an 


\  set 


so  ns  to  enclose  a  Sfpiare  area 


el'  those  rude  temples,  or  |ilaces  of  ineanta 

1 


It    :,pp.'; 
tiou  'It  wi-rshi' 


to  have  1 


leen 

lllOWII    to 


I  le  iiietas.  or   priests,  where  crrt.im  riii  s  and   ceitMnmues  an-  per 
Hut  it 


rfornied. 


was  not  an  ordm.arv  medirme  lodL'e, 


d   lieeii   t!ir  mort 


cure  111  Its  constructio!). 

'  >u  reacliiii;r  the  viil  i.^^'  o!"  Si 
fi:.'ures  of  ;iiii!n:iU,  liii'ds,  ■in  I  o'l 
liiis,  or  wi'ai)|ii;irs  of  t'r  ! 


0,1    I'le  n;i',ier 


ler  I'l"  lei'S   \^  el'' 


',1  1.  wnicii  W-- e  >',M:io 


lie! 


CUli' 


ts  of  t!i(>  fort. 


anil  ii'^"!!  !i  e  open  s':oi' 


'.\cre  also  obs 


ervi; 


lie  e,    IS  ,11   other 


,S    of  t!ie 
liu'S    \'\    t'' 


Mississippi,  tlio 
ill  th-'  1  lide  c()f- 
arminl  t!ie  prc- 

Si:iiilar  devices 
i.m,  upon  their 


'I 


298 


THK    ART    OP    PICTUllK    WRITING. 


arms,  war-clubs,  canoes,  and  other  pieces  of  moveable  property,  as  weL 
as  upon  their  grave  posts. 

In  the  descent  of  liie  Mississippi,  we  observed  such  devices  painted  on 
a  rock,  below  and  near  tiic  montii  of  Elk  river,  and  at  a  rocky  island 
in  tin;  river,  at  the  Little  Falls.  In  the  course  of  our  descent  to  the  Falls 
at  St.  Anthony,  we  observed  another  hark  letter,  iis  the  party  now  be;.'-an 
to  call  these  inscriptions,  suspended  on  a  high  pole,  on  wn  elevated  hank 
of  the  river,  on  its  west  shore.  At  this  spot,  where  we  encanijied  fur  the 
night,  and  which  is  just  opposite  a  point  oi'  iiighly  crystalized  hornblende 
rock,  called  the  Peace  Rock,  rising  up  through  the  prairie,  there  were  h  ft 
standing  the  poles  or  skeletons  of  a  great  number  of  Siou.x  lodijes.  it  is 
near  and  a  little  west  of  the  territorial  boundary  of  the  Sinux  nation  ;  and 
on  inspecting  this  scroll  of  bark,  we  found  it  had  reference  to  a  negocia- 
tion  for  bringing  about  a  permanent  peace  between  the  Siou.x  and  Chippe- 
vvas.  A  large  party  of  the  former,  from  St.  Peter's,  headed  by  their  ehiuf, 
had  proceeded  thus  far,  in  the  hope  of  nieetin**  the  Chippewa  hunters, 
on  their  sununer  hunt.  They  had  been  countenanced,  or  directed. in  this 
step,  by  Col.  Leavenworth,  the  commanding  officer  of  the  new  post,  just 
then  about  to  be  erected.  The  inscription,  which  was  read  ofTat  once,  by 
the  Chippewa  Chief  Babosacundabee,  who  was  with  us,  told  all  this  ;  it 
gave  the  name  of  the  Chief  who  had  led  the  party,  and  the  ninnber  of 
his  followers,  and  gave  that  chief  the  first  assurance  he  had,  that  his  mis- 
sion for  the  same  purpose,  would  be  favourably  received. 

After  our  arrival  at  St.  Anthony's  Falls,  it  was  found  that  this  systeni 
of  picture  writing  was  as  familiar  to  the  Dacotah,  as  we  had  found  it 
imong  the  Algonquin  race.  At  Prairie  du  Cbit.'n,  and  at  (Ireen  IJay, 
the  same  evidences  were  observed  among  the  Monomonees,  iuid  the  Win- 
nebagoes,  at  Chicago  among  the  Pottowottomies,  and  at  .Michiliinakinac, 
among  the  Chippewas  and  Ottawas  who  resort,  in  such  numhers,  to  that 
Island.  While  at  the  latter  place,  on  my  return,  I  went  to  visit  the  grave 
of  a  noted  chief  of  the  Monomonee  tribe,  who  had  lieen  known  hy  his 
French  name  of  Toma,  i.  e.  Thomas.  He  had  been  buried  on  the  hill 
west  of  the  village;  and  on  looking  at  his  Ad-je-da-tig  or  grave  pisi. 
it  bore  a  pictorial  inscription,  conunemorating  some  of  the  prominent 
achievements  of  his  life. 

These  hints  served  to  direct  my  attention  to  the  subject  when  I  returned 
to  the  country  in  1822.  The  figures  of  a  deer,a  bear,  aturtle,  and  a  crane, 
according  to  this  system,  stand  resj)ectively  ibr  the  names  of  men,  and 
preserve  the  language  very  well,  by  yielding  to  the  person  convcismt 
with  it.  the  corresponding  words,  of  Addick,  Muckwa,  Mickenock,  ami 
Adjei  jauk.  Marks,  circles,  or  dots,  of  various  kinds,  may  symboli/e  the 
number  of  warlike  deeds.  Adjunct  devices  may  typify  or  explain  adjunot 
acts.  If  the  system  went  no  farther,  the  record  would  yield  a  kind  of  in- 
formation both  gratifying  and  useful  to  one  of  his  countrvmen  who  haJ 


THE    ART   OP    PICTURE    WIHTING. 


299 


ty,  as  weli 


paintcii  on 
ocUy  island 
lo  the  FiiUs 
now  Vx'jjiin 
jviitnl   Imiik 
iipcd  I'oi-  tii« 
i  honiVilendu 
lere  wero  U  It 
,,,1,,-es.      ll  is 
:  nation  ;  and 
lo  a  nrgocia- 
X  and  Chiiipc- 
by  their  chii'i', 
pcwa  hunters, 
liiected.inlhis 
new  post,  just 
I  off  at  once,  by 
told  all  this  ;  it 
,he  ninnber  of 
^d,  that  his  n>is- 

iit  this  systmn 
had  found   it 

at  linen  liay, 
and  the  ^Vin• 
i,:hiliiniil>'"'i*-'' 

iiiinl>ers,  to  that 
visit  the  LH-ave 
l<no\vn  hy  Ins 

iricd  on  the  liiH 
01-  -rrave  Ih^'. 
the  pronniH'Ut 


no  letters  and  was  expert  in  the  use  of  synihols ;  and  the  intcrprelation 
of  it,  would  be  easy  and  precise  in  propnition  a.-^  the  sii,'ns  were  ffeneral, 
conventional,  and  well  umlerstood.  'I'liyre  \vas  ahinidiinl  e\  idi  iice  in  my 
first  year's  ol>servatiori,  to  denote  that  this  mode  of  comnmnication  was  in 
vojfue,  and  well  understood  by  the  northern  trihts  ;  l)ut  it  hardly  seemed 
siisce|itil)le  of  a  farther  or  extended  use.  It  was  ii.it  till  I  had  made  a 
personal  acfjuaintance  with  one  of  their  Medas — a  man  of  nnicli  intelli- 
gence, and  well  versed  in  their  customs,  relijjion.  and  historv.  tiiat  a  more 
enlarijed  application  of  it  appeared  to  be  praiti'.ahle.  1  obst.'rv(.'d  in  the 
hands  of  this  man  a  tabular  piece  of  wood,  covered  over  on  l)otli  sides, 
wi'h  a  series  of  devices  cut  between  parallel  lintis,  wlii-h  he  referred  to, 
as  if  they  were  the  notes  of  his  medicine  and  mysticd  sony:s.  I  heard 
him  sinir  these  sonp:s,  and  observed  that  their  succession  was  fixed  and 
uniform.  By  cuUivalirig-  his  acquaintance,  and  by  suitable  attention  and 
presents,  such  as  the  occasion  rendered  proper,  he  consented  to  explain 
the  meaning'  of  each  fiafure,  the  ol>ject  symbolized,  and  the  words  attached 
to  each  symbol.  By  this  revr-lation,  which  was  mide  with  closed  doors, 
I  became  a  mi^mber  or  initiate  of  the  Medicine  Society,  and  also  of  the 
Wabeno  Society.  Care  was  taken  to  write  each  sentence  of  the  soncfs 
and  chants  in  the  Indian  l.inpMai,''e,  with  its  appropriate  devices,  and  to 
subjoin  a  literal  tr.inslation  in  English.  When  this  had  been  done,  and 
the  system  considered,  it  was  very  clear  that  the  devices  were  mnemonic — 
that  any  per?on  could  sinq-  from  these  devices,  very  accurately,  what  he 
hail  pr  vioiislv  cominitfed  to  memory,  and  that  the  sv'em  revealed  a  cu- 
rious scbeuip  of  symbolic  notation. 

All  the  fitrures  thus  employed,  as  the  initiatory  points  of  study,  related 
exclusivel','  to  either  the  medicine  dance,  or  the  wabeno  dance;  and  each 
.«ei'tinn  of  fiLHU'es.  related  exchisivelv  tn  one  or  the  other,  'I'herc  was  no 
intermixture  or  comrnine'linir  of  characters,  altlminrh  the  class  of  sol  jecLs 
were  sometimes  coimnnn  to  each.  It  was  perceived.  ?n}i!!e(|ii(^ntiy.  that 
'his  classification  of  symbols  extetided  to  the  sooii?  devoted  to  \v:ir,  to 
h'liilinj'.  and  to  'ither  speciti('  to)>ics'.  The  entire  insi-iiptive  yy.-itern.  reacli- 
iii"  from  its  firs',  ru  limeiiSal  ch'ir.acters.  in  the  a  l-ji'-da-ti'f.  or  e-rave  Imiird. 
In  the  extended  roll  of  baric  covered  with  the  iticriptions  ni  their  ma<_ri- 
iiai):5  an  I  propliets.  derived  a  new  interest  from  ibis  fi>atnre.  It  was  easy 
to  pe'Tcive  that  rmich  conijiarative  precision  was  imparted, to  interpreta- 
tioar  in  tlir'  hatids  of  the  initiated,  which  before,  or  to  others,  had  very 
litile.  An  interest  was  thus  cast  over  it  distinct  from  its  ik  veliy.  And 
in  t:utb.  the  entire  pictorial  system  was  thns  invested  with  the  character 
of  isiihject  of  acnralc  investigation,  which  ju'omised  both  interest  and  in- 
strtiction. 

It  has  been  thouEfht  that  a  simple  stalemetit  of  these  circumstances, 
would  he.-,l  answer  the  end  in  view,  and  nuvlit  well  occupy  the  place  of  a 
more  (onu'il  or  profound  introduction.     In  iaiivjin";  forward  the  elements 


it 


'I 
It 


■i    Mil! 


^i-'ift^ 


I 


u ! 


If 


3C0 


THE    ART    OF    PICTURE    WRITING. 


of  the  system,  after  much  reflection,  it  is  tliought,  however,  that  a  few  re- 
marks on  the  general  character  of  this  art  may  not  be  out  of  place.  For, 
simple  as  it  is,  we  perceive  in  it  the  native  succedaneum  for  letters.  It  is 
not  only  the  sole  graphic  mode  they  have  for  communicating  ideas,  but  it 
is  the  mode  of  commiiiiiealing  all  classes  of  ideas  commonly  entertained 
by  theni — f^iioh  as  tlwMr  ideas  of  war,  of  hunting,  of  religion,  and  of 
maijic  and  necrdmancy.  So  considered,  it  reveals  a  new  and  unsuspected 
mrMJe  of  ohtaiiiing  light  on  their  opinions  of  a  deity,  of  the  structure  or 
cofinoiToiiy  of  the  globe,  of  asironotny,  the  various  classes  of  natural  ob 
jccts,  thi'ir  ideas  of  inimoitality  and  a  future  state,  and  tlie  prevalent  no 
lions  of  the  union  of  spiritual  and  material  matter.  So  wide  and  varied, 
indeed,  is  the  range  opened  by  the  subject,  that  we  may  consider  the  In- 
dian svsti'in  of  picture  writing  as  the  thread  which  ties  up  the  scroll  of 
the  Red  man's  views  of  life  and  death,  reveals  the  true  theory  of  his 
hopes  and  fears,  and  denotes  the  relation  he  bears,  in  the  secret  chambers 
of  his  own  thoughts,  to  his  Maker.  What  a  stoic  and  suspicious  temper 
wo<ild  often  hold  him  back  from  uttering  to  another,  and  what  a  limited 
language  would  sometimes  prevent  his  fully  revealing,  if  he  wished, 
symbols  and  figures  can  be  made  to  represent  and  e.xpress.  The  Indian 
is  not  a  man  prone  to  describe  his  god,  but  he  is  ready  to  depict  him,  by  a 
symbol  He  may  conceal  under  the  figures  of  a  serpent,  a  turtle,  or  a 
wolf,  wisdom,  strength,  or  maliguity,  or  convey  under  the  picture  of  the 
sun,  the  idea  of  a  supreme,  all-seeing  intelligence.  But  he  is  not  pre- 
pared to  discourse  upon  these  things.  What  he  believes  on  this  head,  he 
will  nut  dc'i'lare  1o  a  whlti^  man  or  a  strangiT.  His  happiness  and  success 
in  life,  are  thonglit  to  depend  u)  on  tin-  secrecy  of  that  knowledge  of  tlie 
Creator  and  his  system  in  tlic  Indian  view  ol'  benign  and  malignant 
agf^nts.  To  reveal  this  to  others,  even  to  bis  own  people,  is,  he  believes, 
to  expose  iiimself  to  the  counteracting  influence  of  other  agents  known 
to  his  subtle  scheme  of  necromancy  and  superstition,  and  to  hazard  suc- 
ce.^s  and  life  itsclt'.  'i'his  coMtiucts  to  make  the  Hed  man  fininently  a 
i;ian  of  fear,  suspicii)n,  and  secrecy.  I'ut  he  cannot  avoid  some  of  tliese 
'liscldSHVf's  in  iiis  pictures  and  fiirures.  These  figures  represent  iileas— - 
whole  i  leas,  and  their  ju.\taposition  or  relation  on  a  roll  ol'  bark,  a  tree,  or 
a  rock,  discloses  a  continuity  of  ideas.     This  is  the  basis  of  the  system 

Picture  writing  is  indeed  the  literature  of  the  Imlians.  It  cannot  If 
inlerptcted,  iiowever  rudely,  without  letting  one  Icnow  what  the  lied  ninii 
ihink^  and  believes.  Jt  shadows  forth  the  Indian  intellect,  it  stands  in  the 
place  iif  letters  fnr  the  Unishinnba.  *  It  .-bows  the  Red  iinn  in  all  ])C- 
riols  of  our  hi.^tory,  both  as  lie  ir/is.  and  as  he  /.<  ;  for  lliere  is  noihiiii: 
n.orc  true  than  that,  save  and  e.xcept  the  comparatively  few  instances 
where  they  have  trulv  embraced  e.xperimental  Christianity,  there  has  not 

•   A.  ntciipric  ti-rm  di'iiniiiii!  tlie  common  people  of  tlie  Iiuliiiii  race. 


,at  a  few  re- 
)lacc.  For, 
;tters.     It  is 

ideas,  but  it 
I  entertained 
(rion.  iUHl  of 
1  unsusiu'cteo 

stvuctvue  01 
,f  ualural  ob 
previik-nt  no 
e  and  viified, 
nsidor  the  In- 
p  the  scroll  of 

t\»eory  of  l'i» 
.K-ret  charnbeTS 
spicious  tempet 

what  a  limited 

if  he  wished, 
g.     The  Indian 
depict  him,  by  a 
It,  a  turtle,  or  a 
,e  picture  of  the 
It  he  is  not  pre- 

on  this  head,  he 
liness  and  success 
Lwledge  of  the 
\  and  malignant 

,,.  i,^  he  believe?. 

it;v  aL'-'-'Hts  known 

a,  I  to  ha/avd  suc- 

Lan  eminently  a 
,id  some  of  these 

represent  ideas— 

lolbavk,atree.or 

of  the  system. 

Iiii^i      U  cannot  U' 

what  th.e  Ke'l  "■'^" 

|,,ct,  it  s-tands  in  the 

I  man  m  all  pc- 

L  Oaeve  is  n<^^*""- 

Ivrlv  f'-w  instances 

]nity,  there  has  not 

I  Iiulmn  race. 


GHAVi:    CKKRK  iMOL  XD 

This  ijlg;uitic  tumulus,  the  largest  in  the  Oiiio  v:illry,  \»;is  oixik d  some 
four  or  five  yt.'ais  ago,  and  found  to  contain  some  aiticlesof  hiuhanti(|ua_rian 
value,  in  addition  to  the  ordinary  discoveries  of  Ipininn  lon<s,  iVc.  A 
rotunda  was  huilt  under  its  centre,  walh'd  with  dricK',  and  rooCcil  over,  and 
having  a  long  gallery  leading  into  it.  at  ti>e  baso  of  the  iridiind.  Amund 
this  circular  wall,  in  the  centre  of  this  heavy  anil  darii|)  mass  of  eailh,  with 
its  atmosphere  of  pt.'cnliar  and  pungent  charactt-r.  the  skeI('ton>'  and  other 
disinterred  artiides.  are  liiuig  up  for  the  gratification  of  visitiMS,  the  whol<! 
lighted  up  with  candles,  which  have  the  eflect  to  give  a  strikin'^ly  sepul- 
chral air  to  the  whole  scene.  But  whet  adils  most  to  this  elfeet.  is  a  kind 
of  exuded  flaky  matter,  very  white  and  soft,  i.nd  reiidercd  Iniiliant  by 
dependent  drops  of  water,  which  hangs  in  rude  festoons  from  the  ceiling. 

To  this  rotunda,  it  is  said,  a  delegation  of  Indians  paid  a  visit  a  year  or 
two  since.  In  the  ''  Wht'elinii  'I'inies  ami  Advertiser"  of  the  '•'■<^\\\  August 
1S43,  the  following  connuunication,  resjiecting  this  visit,  intrijducing  s 
short  dramatic  poem,  was  published. 

"An  aged  Cherokee  chief  who,  on  his  v.ay  to  the  west,  visited  tlie  ro- 
tunda e.vc.-ivated  in  this  gigantic  tmnuliis,  with  its  skeletons  and  other 
relics  arranged  around  the  walls,  became  so  indignant  at  the  desecration 
and  display  of  sepulchral  secrets  to  the  white  race,  that  his  companions 
and  interpreter  found  it  dinicult  to  restrain  him  from  assassinating  tho 
guide.  His  language  assumed  the  tone  of  fury,  and  he  brandish(;d  his 
knife,  as  they  forced  him  out  of  the  passage.  Soon  after,  hi-  was  found 
prostrated,  with  his  senses  steeped  in  the  influence  of  alcohid. 

"'Tis  not  enough!  that  hated  race 
Should  hunt  us  out,  from  grove  and  place 
And  consecrated  shore — where  long 
Our  fathers  raised  the  lance  and  song — 
Tis  not  enough! — that  we  nnist  go 
Where  streams  and  rushing  foimtains  flow 
Wiiose  nmrmurs.  heard  amid  our  fears, 
Fall  only  on  a  stranirer's  ears — 
'Tis  not  enough! — lliat  with  a  wand. 
They  sweep  away  our  pleas.uil  land, 
And  hid  us,  as  some  giant-foe, 
Or  willing,  oi  unwilling  "-o! 
But  they  must  ope  our  very  graves 
To  tell  the  '/.■;..•'/' —thev  ton.  are  slaves." 


„  ia 

W 


m 


I  ;]  if 


8 -ill 


■:;i". 


n 


'V  ■■■■<i 
Wfmm 

11;  ' 


NAMliS  01'  Till-:  AMIMdCAN  LAKES. 

Ontario,  is  a  worrl  from  thn  VVyiinilot,  or,  as  called  l)y  the  licKiuois, 
diiatiiirliio  l.inniiiiyu.  'I'liia  trilie,  jiiior  to  tln'  oiithroalv  of  the  war  agaiiit;! 
them,  hy  their  kiiuiicd  thr  Iriujuois.  lived  on  a  bay.  iie:ir  Kiii^rt'ni):  vvliich 
was  th(.'  aiii'ient  j'oint  el'  einharkiitiini  and  cleharkution,  oi',  in  other  words, 
at  oncti  the  coniinencpmem  and  tlie  tertninns  of  the  poitage.  according  to 
(ho  j)oiiit  of  ileslination  for  all,  who  passed  into  or  out  of  the  lake.  From 
such  a  point  it  was  iiatiin.l  itiata  tertn  so  euphonons,  should  prevail  atnony 
Euro))eans,  over  tile  other  Indian  names  in  use.  The  iVlohawks  and  their 
confederates,  generally,  called  it  Cadaraccpii — which  was  al.so  their  nunie 
for  the  St.  Lawrence.  The  Onondagas,  it  is  believed,  knew  it,  in  eaily 
times,  by  the  name  of  C^swego.*  (^f  tlie  meaning  of  Ontario,  we  are  left 
in  the  dark  by  commentators  on  the  Indian.  Philology  casts  some  light 
on  the  s'.il)j(^ct  The  first  syllable,  o«,  it  may  be  observed,  appears  to  bo 
the  notarial  increment  or  syll.ible  of  Onoiulio,  a  hill.  Tarak,  is  clearly, 
the  same  phrase,  written  darac,  by  the  French,  in  the  Mohawk  comjxnjud 
of  Cadaracqiii;  and  denoies  rocks,  i.  e.  rocks  standing  iti  the  water,  li 
the  final  vowi.ds  in,  we  have  the  same  te'rm.  with  the  same  meaning  v\  h'cl 
ihey  carry  in  the  Seneci.  or  old  Mingo  word  vJluof  It  is  descriptive  ot 
an  extended  ami  beaiitilhl  water  jjrosjiect,  or  landscape.  It  posses.scs  all 
the  properties  of  an  e.xclaiiiation.  in  other  languages,  but  accordinsj  to  the 
unirpie  piinciph'.s  of  the  Indiiiii  grammar,  it  is  an  e.xclamation-substau- 
tive.      How  beaiitifiii!  [tln'  prospect,  scene  ])resent.J 

Erie  i.-s  the  name  <>f  a  trib;^  con(piered  or  extinguished  by  the  Irorpiois. 
We  cannot  .stop  to  inqmr(>  into  this  tiict  historically,  fiirlher  thati  to  sav. 
that  it  w,is  the  poiii;y  of  this  people  to  adojit  into  their  dili'erent  tribes  of 
the  confederacy,  the  remnants  of  nations  whom  ihry  coni|uered.  and  th.it 
it  wa.s  not  probable,  iherefoic.  that  the  Erie.>  were  annihilated.  Aor  is  it 
probable  that  they  wia'e  a  jieople  very  remote  in  kindred  and  langiiago 
from  the  ancient  Siiion  lowaiis,  or  Senecas.  who,  it  may  be  supposed,  bv 
crushing  them,  destroyed  and  exterminated  their  name  only,  while  tiiey 
sfreni;thiiied  their  nuinbers  by  this  inter-adoption.  In  many  old  majis, 
this  lai<e  hi.'ars  the  name  of  Erie  or  "Oskwago."' 

Huron,  is  the  mnii  ric  guerre  of  the  Friaich,  for  the  ''Yendats,''  as 
they  are  cille  1  in  .some  old  authors,  or  the  Wyandots.  Charlevoix  tells 
us  that  it  is  a  term  derived  from  the  French  word  liu.rc,  [a  wild  boar. J  and 
was  a|)pliel  to  this  nation  I'roni  the  mode  of  wearing  their  hair,  ''tluelles 
Hure^!■'  Slid  the  lirsl  visiters,  when  they  saw  them,  and  hence,  accor<liiig 
to  this  respectable  author,  the  word  Huron. 

•  Vi.li'  a  {{■■taiai.<eiM(  I'  of  Oswego. 

\  The  ^oiiiu!  i«f  i  la  i';:s  wurd,  ■■m  in  Ontario,  is  long  e  in  tbo  Indian. 

302 


NAMES    OF    THE    AMERICAN    LAKES. 


303 


When  lliis  nation,  with  their  confederatps,  the  Algonquins,  or  Ailiron- 
daks,  US  tlio  Ir(M[ii(>is  callttl  them,  were  overthrown  in  several  decisive 
buttles  on  the  St.  Lawrence,  lietween  Montreal  and  Quebec,  and  compelled 
to  fly  west;  they  at  first  took  shelter  in  this  lake,  and  thus  transferred  their 
nume  to  it.  With  them,  or  ut  least,  at  the  same  general  era,  came  somo 
others  of  thi;  tiihes  who  made  a  part  of  the  people  called  l.y  the  French, 
Alufonquins.  or  Xipercineans,  and  who  thus  constituted  tlie  several  iiihes, 
speakint;'  u  closely  cn^-nate  laniruafre,  whose  (Icscciuiants  arc  ieifirilrd  hy 
])hilolo<,n.<ts,  as  the  modtMU  Lake-Altfoniiuins. 

'i'he  French  sometimes  called  this  lake  Mcr  douce,  or  tlit;  Placid  sea. 
The  Odjihwus  and  some  other  northern  tribes  of  that  stock,  call  it  (Hlowa 
lake,  No  term  has  lieen  foun<l  for  it  in  the  Iroquoi.s  lauijuaire,  unless  it 
be  that  by  which  they  distiniruished  its  principal  seat  of  trade,  negociation 
nnd  early  rendezvous,  the  island  of  Michilimackinac,  which  they  called 
'ri('donderncIiit>. 

.Michigan  is  a  deriv.itive  from  two  Odjihwa-Algonquin  words,  signify- 
ing large,  i.  e.  large  in  relation  to  masses  in  the  inorganic  kingdom,  and 
a  lake.  The  French  called  it,  geneially,  during  the  eavlitir  periods  of 
iht  ir  transactions,  the  lake  of  the  illinese,  or  Illinois. 

Superior,  the  most  northwesterly,  and  the  largest  of  the  series,  is  a  term 
which  a])peurs  to  have  come  into  general  use.  at  a  comparaii\fly  early 
era.  after  the  jilanting  of  the  Entrlish  colonies.  The  French  bestowed 
upon  it.  unsucces.sfully,  one  or  two  names,  the  last  of  which  was  Traci, 
after  tbe  I'Vcnch  minister  of  this  nami'.  By  the  (Jdjibwa-Abjonquins, 
who  at  the  period  of  the  French  discovery,  and  who  still  occupy  its 
borders,  it  is  called  ( iiicli-[gomee,  or  'I'he  Rig  Sea-water;  from  (jitchee, 
great,  and  guma,  a  generic  term  for  boilirs  of  water.  The  term  KUiMA, 
is  an  alihrevjateil  form  of  this,  suggested  for  adoption. 


The  poftry  of  the  Indians,  is  the  poetry  of  naked  thought.  They 
have  neither  ryhme,  nor  metre  to  adorn  it. 

Talcs  and  traditions  occupy  the  place  of  books,  with  the  Red  Race. — 
They  make  up  a  kind  of  oral  literature,  which  is  resorted  to,  on  long 
winter  evenings,  for  the  amusement  of  the  lodge. 

The  love  of  independenct;  is  so  great  with  these  tribes,  that  tliey  have 
never  been  williu;,'-  to  load  their  politi '.'.I  system  with  the  forms  of  a  rcgu- 
.ar  government,  for  fear  it  might  j)rovt!  oppressive. 

To  be  Toverticl  iind  to  be  enslaved,  aie  ideas  which  have  been  con- 
fciinJed  bv  the  Indians. 


». 


I 


GEOGRAl^mCAL  TERMINOLOGY  OF  THE  U.  STATES, 

|iEPaVi:i)    FROM    TIIR    INDIAN    LAMiVAUK. 

TViae  E.elrnrlf  nrc  mn,lc  from  "  C'irhipadia    Jnitiacmis  "  a  MS.  vmk  in  prrparation. 

No.  r. 

Hi  i.«()\  IJivri;. —  My  tlu>  lril>rs  who  iiili;iliitoil  tlie  aren  of  the  present 
County  (if  IJlItl■ll('^sf»,  iiml  other  |)ortioiis  of  its  eiistcrii  b,uilv"S,  as  low  down 
as  'I'app.in,  this  riviT  was  railed  Shaletimc — w  liicli  is  believed  to  be  a  de- 
rivative from  Sliata,n  pelican.  'I'he  Minisi.  who  inhaliited  the  we.st  banlcs, 
below  the  point  (b.'noted,  e.xtendiiiif  indeed  over  all  the  eiist  half  of  New 
Jersey,  to  the  fdl.s  of  the  Haritaii,  where  they  joined  their  kindred  the 
Lcnni  Lenape,  or  Didawares  proper,  called  it  Mohican ittnek — that  is  to 
say.  River  of  the  Mohican.*.  The  Mohawks,  anil  probably  the  other 
branches  of  the  Iroquois,  callerl  it  Cahohatat(\i — a  t(.Min  of  which  the  in- 
terpreters who  have  furnished  the  word,  do  not  trivo  an  explanation.  Tlic 
prefixed  term  Oaho.  it  may  be  observed,  is  their  name  f(jr  the  lower  and 
principal  falls  of  the  Mohawk.  Sometimes  this  prefix  was  doubled,  with 
the  particle  Jin.  thrown  in  between.  Ilntatea  is  clearly  one  of  those  de- 
scriptive and  alTirmative  phrases  reprosentiuLT  objects  in  the  ve.'retablo  and 
mineral  kintrdoins.  which  admitted  as  we  see,  in  other  instances  of  their 
compounds,  a  very  wide  range.  I3y  some  of  the  more  westerly  Iro- 
quois, the  river  was  called  Sanataty. 

Ai.HANV. — The  name  bv  which  this  place  was  known  to  the  Iroquois, 
at  an  early  day.  was  Schenectady,  a  term  w  hicli,  as  recently  pronounced 
by  a  dauirhter  of  Brant,  yet  livini,'-  in  Canada,  has  the  still  harsher  sound 
of  Skoh-nek-ta-ti.  with  a  str"?-s  on  the  lirst.  and  the  accent  stronijly  on 
the  second  syllalde.  the  third  and  fourth  beiniif  jironounced  r.ipidly  and 
short.  Th(!  transference  of  this  name,  to  its  present  location,  by  the  Ens' 
lish,  on  the  bestowal  on  the;  place  liy  Cv\.  Nichols,  of  a  new  iiatne.  derived 
from  the  Duke  of  Vork's  Scottish  title,  is  well  known,  and  is  stated, 
with  some  comiected  traditions,  liy  .ludj^e  IJenson,  in  his  eccentric  inemnir 
before  the  New  Yfu-k  Misto.ical  Society.  The  meanini,'-  of  this  name,  as 
derived  from  the  authority  above  (]Uoted.  is  Beyond  the  P'nirx,  having 
been  applied  exclusively  in  ancient  times,  to  the  sou;!  m:i  end  of  the 
ancient  portnire  path,  from  the  Mohawk  to  the  Hudson.  By  the  Mirici, 
who  did  not  live  here,  but  extended,  however,  on  '.he  west  shore  above 
Coxackie,  and  even  Coeymans,  it  appeal*  to  have  been  called  CJaishtinic. 
The  Mohegans,  who  lonjT  continued  to  occupy  the  present  area  of  Reiis- 
gelear  and  Cidumbia  counties,  called  it  T'empotawnthut,  that  is  to  say,  the 
City  or  Place  of  the  Council  Fire.     None  of  these  terms  appear  to  ha\c 

304 


GEOGRAPHICAL  TERMINOLOGY  OP  THE  U.  STATES. 


305 


rATES, 


i/iratwn. 


It  vrry 


•  the  present 
ns  low  down 
:.,1  10  >ie  a  Je- 
ll west  IvAVilcs, 

h;>ir  of  New 

•  UiiiLlif'l  ^^° 
,clt__thnt  is  to 

,My  tlif  "^^^•''^ 
wliich  tlic  iii- 
planiUion.  The 
the  lower  and 
s  clonl.led,  witli 
[le  ol'  those  ile- 
e  veiietable  and 
itances  of  their 
,c  westerly  Iro- 

to  the  Iroquois, 
jiily  prononnceil 
|l  harsher  sound 
.„t  stronsjly  "1^ 
.,.,1   vapi'lly  and 
kon.  I'V  the  F.n>,- 
[vvnaituMlerived 
1,  and    is  stated, 
■cofnlvic  rnenioit 
of  this  name,  as 
P'nirs,  havini? 
,;,    rnd    of  the 
l^y  the   Minci, 
west  shore  ahove 
ailed  Claishtini.-. 
Int  area  of  l^^ens- 
1  that  is  to  say,  the 
IS  appear  u>  have 
30t 


fuiind  favour  with  the  European  settlers,  and,  together  with  their  prior 
names  of  Beaverwyck  and  Fort  Orange,  they  at  once  gave  way,  in  1664, 
to  the  present  name.  A  once  noted  eminence,  three  miles  west,  on 
the  plains,  i.  e.  Trader's  Hill,  was  called  Isutchera,  or  by  prefixing  the 
name  for  a  hill,  Yonondio  Isutchera.  It  means  the  hiil  of  oil.  Norman's 
Kill,  which  enters  the  Hudson  a  little  below,  the  Mohawk.s  called 
Towasontha,  a  term  which  is  translated  by  Dr.  Yates,  to  meaUj  n  place 
of  many  dead. 

Niagara. — It  is  not  in  unison,  perhaps,  with  general  expectation,  to  find 
that  the  exact  translation  of  this  name  does  not  entirely  fulfil  poetic  pre 
conception.  By  the  term  O-ne-aw-ga-ra,  the  Mohawks  and  their  co-tribes 
described  on  the  return  of  their  war  excursions,  the  neck  of  water  which 
connects  lake  Erie  with  Ontario.  The  term  is  derived  from  their  name 
for  the  human  neck.  Whether  this  term  was  designed  to  have,  as  many 
of  their  names  do,  a  symbolic  import,  and  to  denote  the  importance  of  this 
communication  in  geography,  as  connecting  the  head  and  heart  of  the 
country,  can  only  be  conjectured.  Nor  is  it,  in  this  instance,  probable. 
When  Europeans  came  to  see  the  gigantic  falls  which  marked  the  strait, 
it  was  natural  that  they  should  have  supposed  the  name  descriptive  of  that 
particular  feature,  rather  than  the  entire  river  and  portage.  We  have 
been  assured,  however,  that  it  is  not  their  original  name  for  the  water-fall, 
although  with  them,  as  with  us,  it  may  have  absorbed  this  meaning. 

Buffalo. — The  name  of  this  place  in  the  Seneca,  is  Te-ho-sa-ro-ro,  Its 
import  is  not  stated. 

DETaoiT. — By  the  Wyandots,  this  place  is  called  Teuchsagrondie  ; 
by  the  Lake  tribes  of  the  Algic  type,  Wa-we-a-tun-ong :  both  terms  sig- 
nify the  Place  of  the  turning  or  Turned  Channel.  It  has  been  remarked 
by  visiters  who  reach  this  place  at  night,  or  in  dark  weather,  or  are  other- 
wise inattentive  to  the  courses,  that  owing  to  the  extraordinary  involutions 
of  the  current  the  sun  appears  to  rise  in  the  wrong  place. 

Chicago. — This  name,  in  the  Lake  Algonquin  dialects,  to  preserve  the 
same  mode  of  orthography,  is  derived  from  Chicagowunzh,  the  wild 
onion  or  leek.  The  orthography  is  French,  as  they  were  the  discovereis 
and  early  settlers  of  this  part  of  the  west.  Kaug,  in  these  dialects  is  a 
porcupine,  and  She  kaug  a  polecat.  The  analogies  in  these  words  are 
apparent,  but  whether  the  onion  was  named  before  or  after  the  animal, 
must  be  judged  if  the  age  of  the  derivation  be  sought  for. 

Tuscaloosa,  a  river  of  Alabama.     From  the  Chacta  words  tuihka,  a 
warrior,  and  lum  black. — [Gallatin.] 
AuAGisKE,  the  Iroquois  name  for  Virginia. 

Assarigoa,  the  name  of  the  Six  Nations  for  the  Governor  of  Virginia. 
OwENAGUNGAS,  a  general  name  of  the  Iroquois  for  the  New  England 
Indians. 
Otsseonteo,  a  spring  which  is  the  head  of  the  river  Delaware. 

20 


H'-J! 


;!{I;I.;J 


306 


GEOURAPIIICAL   TEIIMINOLOGY    OP   THE    U.   STATES. 


Ontonagon  ;  a  considerable  river  of  lake  Superior,  noted  from  early 
times,  for  the  large  mass  of  native  copper  found  on  its  banks.  This  name 
'S  said  to  have  been  derived  from  the  following  incident.  It  is  known 
that  there  is  a  small  bay  and  dead  water  for  some  distance  within  its 
mouth.  In  and  out  of  this  embayed  water,  the  lake  alternately  flows,  ac- 
cording to  the  influence  of  the  winds,  and  other  causes,  upon  its  level. 
An  Indian  woman  had  left  her  wooden  dish,  or  Onagon,  on  the  sands,  at 
the  shore  of  this  little  bay,  where  she  had  been  engaged.  On  coming 
back  from  her  lodge,  the  outflowing  current  had  carried  oflT  her  valued 
utensil.  Nia  Nin-do-nau-gon  !  she  exclaimed,  for  it  was  a  curious  piece 
of  workmanship.     That  is  to  say — Alns  !  my  dish  I 

CnuAH-NAii-wHAH-HAH,  or  Valley  of  the  Mountains.  A  ne.v  pass  in  the 
Rocky  Mountains,  discovered  within  a  few  years.  It  is  supposed  to  be 
in  N.  latitude  about  40°.  The  western  end  of  the  valley  gap  is  30  miles 
wide,  which  narrows  to  20  at  its  eastern  termination,  it  then  turns  oblique 
to  the  north,  and  the  opposing  sides  appear  to  close  the  pass,  yet  there  is 
a  narrow  way  quite  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  On  the  summit  there  is 
a  large  beaver  pond,  which  has  outlets  both  ways,  but  the  eastern  stream 
dries  early  in  the  season,  while  there  is  a  continuous  flow  of  water  west. 
In  i»s  course,  it  has  several  beautiful,  but  low  cascades,  and  terminates  in  a 
placid  and  delightful  stream.     This  pass  is  now  used  by  emigrants. 

Aquidnkck.— The  Narragansett  name  for  Rhode  Island.  Roger  Wil- 
liams observes,  that  he  could  never  obtain  the  meaning  of  it  from  the  na 
lives.  The  Dutch,  as  appears  by  a  map  of  Novi  Belgii  published  at  Am- 
sterdam in  1659,  called  it  Roode  Eylant,  or  Red  Island,  from  the  autum- 
nal  colour  of  its  foliage.  The  present  term,  as  is  noticed,  in  Vol.  III.  of 
the  Collections  of  the  R.  I.  Hist.  Soc.  is  derived  from  this. 

Incapatchow,  a  beautiful  lake  in  the  mountains  at  the  sources  of  the 
river  Hudson.— [Charles  F.  Hoffman,  Esq.) 

HousATONic  ;  a  river  originating  in  the  south-western  part  of  Massa- 
chusetts, and  flowing  through  the  State  of  Connecticut  into  Long  Island 
Sound,  at  Stratford  It  is  a  term  of  Mohegan  origin.  This  tribe  on  retiring 
eastward  from  the  banks  of  the  Hudson,  passed  over  the  High-lands,  into 
this  inviting  valley.  We  have  no  transmitted  etymology  of  the  term, 
and  must  rely  on  the  general  principles  of  their  vocabulary.  It  appears 
to  have  been  called  the  valley  of  the  stream  beyond  the  Mountains,  from 
071.,  the  notarial  sign  of  wudjo,  a  mountain,  atun,  a  generic  phrase  for 
stream  or  channel,  and  ic,  the  inflection  for  locality. 

Wea-nud-nec. — The  Indian  name,  as  furnished  by  Mr.  O'Sullivan, 
(D.  Rev.]  for  Saddle  Mountain,  Massachusetts.  It  appears  to  be  a  deriva- 
tive from  Wa-we-a,  round,  i.  e.  any  thing  round  or  crooked,  in  the  inini* 
mate  creation. 

Ma-iiai-wi;  ;  The  Mohegan  term,  as  given  by  Mr.  Bryant  [N,  Y.  £.  I'] 
for  Great  Barrington,  Berkshire  County,  Massachusetts. 


ES. 

from  early 
This  name 
[t  is  known 
e  within  its 
ly  flows,  ne- 
on its  level, 
the  sands,  at 
On  coming 
ff  her  valued 
cutieas  piece 

e.v  pass  in  the 

supposed  to  be 

,ap  is  30  miles 

n  turns  oblique 

iss,  yet  there  is 

summit  there  is 
eastern  stream 

f  of  water  west. 

d  terminates  in  a 

emigrants. 

J.     Roger  Wil 

f  it  from  the  na 

lublished  at  Am- 
from  the  autum- 
d,  in  Vol.  Ill-  of 

s. 

le  sources  of  the 

•n  part  of  Massa- 
into  Long  Island 
is  tribe  on  retiring 
5  High-lands,  into 
'ogy  of  the  term, 
lulary.    It  appears 
K  Mountains,  from 
teneric  phrase  for 

Mr.  O'SulUvan, 
Lrs  to  be  a  deriva- 
[oked,  in  tho  in-^ni- 

ryantlN.Y.£.Vl 
Is. 


GEOGRAPHICAL  TERMINOLOCV    OF   THE   U.    STATES.       307 

Massachusetts. — This  was  not  the  name  of  a  particular  tribe,  but  a 
geographical  term  applied,  it  should  seem,  to  that  part  of  the  shores  of  tho 
North  Atlantic,  which  is  swept  by  the  tide  setting  into,  and  around  tho 
peninsula  of  Cape  Cod,  and  the  wide  range  of  coast  trending  southerly. 
It  became  a  generic  word,  at  an  early  day,  for  the  tribes  who  inhabited  thia 
coast.  It  is  said  to  be  a  word  of  Narragansett  origin,  and  to  signify  the 
Blue  Hills.  This  is  the  account  given  of  it  by  Roger  Williams,  v/ho 
was  told,  by  the  Indians,  that  it  had  its  origin  from  the  appearance  of 
an  island  off  the  coast.  It  would  be  more  in  conformity  to  the  general 
requisitions  of  ethnography,  to  denominate  the  language  the  New  Eng- 
land-Algonquin, for  there  are  such  great  resemblances  in  the  vocabulary 
and  such  an  identity  in  grammatical  construction,  in  these  tribes,  that  we 
are  constantly  in  danger,  by  partial  conclusions  as  to  original  supremacy, 
of  doing  injustice.  The  source  of  origin  was  doubtless  west  and  south 
west,  but  we  cannot  stop  at  the  Narragansetts,  who  were  themselves  deriva- 
tive from  tribes  still  farther  south.  The  general  meaning  given  by  Wil- 
liams seems,  however,  to  be  sustained,  so  far  as  can  now  be  judged.  The 
terminations  in  elt,  and  set,  as  well  as  those  in  at  and  aA',  denoted  locality 
in  these  various  tribes.  We  see  also,  in  the  antipenultimate  Chu,  the  root 
of  Wudjo,  a  mountain. 

Ta-ha-wus,  a  very  commanding  elevation,  several  thousand  feet  above 
the  sea,  wliich  has  of  late  years,  been  discovered  at  the  sources  of  the 
Hudson,  and  named  Mount  Marcy.  It  signifies,  he  splits  the  sky. — 
[Charles  F.  Hoffman,  Esq.] 

Mo.NG,  tho  name  of  a  distinguished  chief  of  New  England,  as  it  appears 
to  be  recorded  in  the  ancient  pictorial  inscription  on  the  Dighton  Rock, 
in  Massachusetts,  who  flourisiied  before  the  country  was  colonized  by  the 
English.  He  was  both  a  war  captain,  and  a  propiiet,  and  employed  the 
arts  of  the  latter  office,  to  increase  his  power  and  influence,  in  tlie  former. 
Ry  patient  application  of  his  ceremonial  arts,  ho  secured  the  confidence 
of  a  large  body  of  men,  who  were  led  on,  in  the  attack  on  his  enemies, 
by  a  man  named  Piz-hu.  In  this  onset,  it  is  claimed  that  he  killed  forty 
mt>n,  and  lost  three.  To  the  warrior  who  should  be  succcsful,  in  this  on- 
tcrprize,  he  had  promised  his  younger  sister.  [Such  are  the  leading  events 
symbolized  by  this  inscription,  of  which  extracts  giving  full  details,  as  in- 
terpreted by  an  Indian  chief,  now  living,  and  read  before  the  Am.  Ethno- 
logical Society,  in  1843,  will  be  furnished,  in  a  subsequent  number.] 

Tioga. — A  stream,  and  a  county  of  the  State  of  New- York.  From 
Tcoga,  a  swift  current,  exciting  admiration. 

Dio.NDEROGA,  an  ancient  name  of  the  Mohawk  tribe,  for  the  site  at  the 
mouth  of  the  Schoharie  creek,  where  Fort  Hunter  was  afterwards  built 
[Col.  W.  L.  Stone.] 
Ai.HoucHico,  a  generic  name  of  the  Indians  for  New  England,  as  printed 


■f  ;li! 


hm 


I'-   n  ■'■  i 


308 


AMERICAN   ANTiatlTIES,   ETC. 


on  the  Amsterdam  map  of  1659,  in  which  it  is  stated  that  it  was  thus  "  by 
d  inwoonders  genaemt."    (So  named  by  the  natives.) 

luoroisiA,  a  name  bestowed  in  the  map,  above  quoted,  on  that  portion  of 
the  present  state  of  Vermont,  which  lies  west  of  the  Green  Mountains, 
stretching  along  the  eastern  bunk  of  Lake  Champiuin.  By  the  applica- 
tion of  the  word,  it  is  perceived  that  the  French  were  not  alone  m  the  use 
they  made  of  the  apparently  derivative  term  "Iroquois,"  which  they 
gave  to  the  (then)  Five  Nations. 


Snow.  , 

Running  water.  \ 

A  leaf 
The  radix  of  behind  «bc. 


NAMES   OP   THE  SEASONS. 

The  following  are  tne  names  of  the  four  seasons,  in  the  Odjibwa 
tongue : 

From  Kone, 
«  Seeg, 
«  Anib, 
"      Gwag, 

By  adding  the  letter  g  to  these  terms,  they  are  placed  in  the  relation  of 
▼erbs  in  the  future  tense,  but  a  limited  future,  and  the  terms  then  denote 
next  winter,  6cc.  Years,  in  their  account  of  time,  are  counted  by  winters. 
There  is  no  other  term,  but  pe-boan,  for  a  ycrr.  The  year  consists  of 
twelve  lunar  months,  or  moons.  A  moon  is  called  Ge^zis,  or  when 
spoken  of  in  contradistinction  to  the  sun,  Dibik  Geezis,  or  night-sun 
The  cardinal  points  are  as  follows. 


Pe-bon, 
Se-gwun, 
Ne-bin, 
Ta-gwa-gi, 


Winter, 
Spring, 
Summer, 
Autumn, 


(a) 

North, 

Ke  \v&  din-ung. 

(4) 

South, 

0  shi  wan-ung. 

{c) 

East, 

Wa  bun-ung. 

id) 

West, 

Kd  be  un-ung. 

a.  Kewadin  is  a  compound  derived  from  Ke-wa,  to  return,  or  come 
home,  and  nodin,  the  wind.  b.  Oshauw  is,  from  a  root  not  apparent,  but 
which  produces  also  ozau,  yellow,  dtc.  c.  Waban  is  from  ab,  or  wab,  liglit. 
d.  Kabeun,  is  the  name  of  a  mythological  person,  who  is  spoken  ol,  in 
their  fictions,  as  the  father  of  the  winds.  The  inflection  ung,  or  oong,  in 
each  term,  denotes  course,  olace,  or  locality. 


was  thus «'  by 

that  portion  of 
en  Mountains, 
Jy  the  applica- 
lone  in  t\\e  use 
,"    whicli  they 


in 


the  OdjibwB 


^5 


water. 


\ 


dix  of  behind  &c. 
1  in  the  relation  of 
terms  then  denote 
counted  by  winters^ 
^e  year  consists  ol 

Ge6zis,  or  when 

ot  night-sun 

•ung. 
|n-ung. 
ing. 
•ung. 

to  return,  or  come 
,ot  not  apparent,  but 
|omab,orwab,ligl^t. 

ho  is  spoken  ol,  in 
|ionung,oroong,m 


LETTERS    ON    THE    ANTIQUITIES    OF    THE 
WESTERN    COUNTRY, 

AD0RX8SBD    TO    THK    LATI    WILLIAM     L.    STONE,  EDITOK    OV    THB     NEW    TOSK 
COMMRRCIAL    ADVERTISER. 


I. 

Wheeling  (Va.),  August  19th,  1843. 
I  HAVE  just  accomplished  the  passage  of  the  Alleghany  mountains,  in 
the  direction  from  Baltimore  to  this  place,  and  must  say,  that  aside  from 
the  necessary  fatigue  of  night  riding,  the  pass  from  the  Cumberland 
mountains  and  Laurel  Hill  is  one  of  the  easiest  and  most  free  from 
diinger  of  any  known  to  me  in  this  vast  range.  An  excellent  railroad 
now  extends  from  Baltimore,  by  Frederick  and  Harper's  Ferry,  up  the 
Potomac  valley  and  its  north  branch  quite  to  Cumberland,  which  is 
seated  just  under  the  mountains,  whose  peaks  would  seem  to  bar  all 
further  approach.  The  national  road  finds  its  way,  however,  through  a 
gorge,  and  winds  about  where  "  Alps  on  Alps  arise,"  till  the  whole  vast 
and  broad-backed  elevation  is  passed,  and  we  descend  west,  over  a 
smooth,  well  constructed  macadamized  road,  with  a  velocity  which  is 
some  compensation  for  the  toil  of  winding  our  way  up.  Uniontown  is 
tlie  fust  principal  place  west.  The  Monongahela  is  crossed  at  Browns- 
ville, some  forty  miles  above  Pittsburgh,  whence  the  road,  which  is 
'everywhere  well  made  and  secured  with  fine  stone  bridges,  culverts  and 
viaducts,  winds  around  a  succession  of  most  enchanting  hills,  till  it 
enters  a  valley,  winds  up  a  few  more  hills,  and  brings  the  travellers  out| 
on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  at  this  town 

309 


;..»      :f;(    1 


310 


LETTKlia    ON    THK    ANTriliriTIFH 


Tlie  rnlire  ilistaiifi-  iVoiii  llie  hcuti  of  tliL-  ClR'.sa|H'iil;«'  to  tlip  watpr» 
of  tliu  Oliio  is  not  L'ssi'iitiiilly  (litli'i'iiit  from  tliicc  liundii-d  m'lU'a.  \Vu 
Wire  less  than  two  days  in  jKissiiij^  it,  twenty-six  lioiirs  of  which,  part 
night  and  part  day,  wi'if  spent  in  post-coucht's  ht-twii-n  Cumberland  und 
this  placo.  IIurpei\  tViry  is  an  inipressivt;  scene,  but  h'ss  so  than  it 
would  be  to  a  tourist  wlio  liad  not  his  fancy  excited  by  injudicious 
descriptions.  To  ine,  the  romance  was  quite  taken  awny  hy  drivin<; 
into  it  with  a  tremendous  clattering  power  of  steam.  The  geological 
structure  of  this  section  of  country,  from  water  to  water,  is  not  without 
an  imj)ressive  lesson.  In  rising  from  the  Chesapeake  waters  the  .striti- 
fiud  rocks  are  lifted  up,  pointing  west,  or  towards  the  Alleghanies,  and 
after  crossing  the  summit  they  point  east,  or  directly  contrary,  like  the 
two  sides  of  the  roof  of  a  house,  and  leave  the  inevitable  conclusion 
that  the  Alleghanies  have  been  lifted  up  hy  a  lateral  rent,  as  it  were,  at 
the  relative  point  of  the  ridge  pole.  It  is  in  this  way  that  the  granites 
and  their  congeners  have  been  raised  up  into  their  present  elevations 

I  did  not  sec  any  evidence  of  that  wave-like  or  undulatory  structure, 
which  was  brought  forward  as  a  theory  last  year,  in  an  able  paper  for 
warded  by  Professor  Rogers,  and  read  at  the  meeting  of  the  British  Asso- 
ciation for  the  Advancement  of  Science  at  Manchester.  No  organic 
remains  are,  6f  course,  visible,  in  this  particular  section,  at  least  until 
we  strike  the  coal  and  iron-stone  formation  of  Pittsburgh.  But  1  have 
been  renewedly  impressed  with  the  opinion,  so  very  opposite  to  the 
present  geofogical  theory,  that  less  than  seven  thousand  years  is  suffi- 
cient, on  scientific  principles,  to  account  for  all  the  phenomena  of  fossil 
plants,  shells,  bones  and  organic  remains,  as  well  as  the  displacements, 
disruptions,  subsidences  and  rising  of  strata,  and  other  evidences  of 
extensive  physical  changes  and  disturbances  on  the  earth's  surface.  And 
I  hope  to  live  to  see  some  American  geologist  build  up  a  theory  on  just 
philosophical  and  scientific  principles,  which  shall  bear  the  test  of  truth. 

But  you  will,  perhaps,  be  ready  to  think  that  I  have  felt  more  interest 
in  the  impressions  of  plants  in  stone,  than  is  to  be  found  in  the  field  of 
waving  corn  before  the  eye.  1  have,  however,  by  no  means  neglected 
the  latter  ;  and  can  assure  you  that  the  crops  of  corn,  wheat  and  other 
grains,  throughout  Maryland,  Pennsylvania  and  Western  Virginia,  are 
excellent.  Kven  the  highest  valleys  in  the  Alteghain'es  are  covered 
with  crops  of  corn,  or  fields  of  stacked  wheat  and  other  grains.  Gene- 
rally, the  soil  west  of  the  mountains  is  more  fertile.  The  influence  of 
the  great  western  limestones,  as  one  of  its  original  materials,  and  of  the 
oxide  of  iron,  is  clearly  denoted  in  heavier  and  more  thrifty  cornfields 
along  the  Monongahela  and  Ohio  valleys. 

Of  the  Ohio  River  itself,  one  who  had  seen  it  in  its  full  flow,  in  April 
and  May,  would  hardly  recognize  it  now.  Shrunk  in  a  volume  far 
below  its  noble  banks,  with  long  spits  of  sand  and  gravel  running  almost 


or    THE  WK8TKKN  COUNTRY. 


311 


Uip  water* 
mill's.  NVe 
>\hich,  part 
ibtrliuitl  uiiil 
MS  HO  Uiun  it 
y  injutViciou.-t 
ty  liy  ilrivin;; 

a  not  without 
i-is  the  Htnli- 
U.ghani»'S,  and 
irary,  like  the 
.blc  conclusion 
,  OS  it  were,  at 
It  the  granites 
il  elevations 
atory  structure, 
able  paper  for 
he  British  Asso- 
(.j_     ^'o  organic 
n,  at  least  until 
oh.     Bull  have 
"opposite  to  the 
,i\  years  is  sulFi- 
nonicna  of  fossil 
L  displacements, 
[her  evidences  of 
h's  surface.     And 
,  a  theory  on  just 
the  test  of  truth, 
fflt  more  interest 
,nd  in  the  field  of 
means  neglected 
,  ^^•heat  and  other 
islern  Virginia,  arc 
[allies  are  covered 
lier  grains.     Gene- 
The  influence  of 
materials,  and  of  the 
e  thrifty  cornfields 

Its  full  flow,  in  April 
Ik  in  a  volume  fat 
lavel  running  almost 


Kcrosii  It,  and  level  sandy  margins,  uncc  cuvt^red  liy  water,  where  armiea 
liii^ht  now  iiiaiueiivrc,  it  is  liut  tlit!  .skeleton  of  iUrlf.  SteuiiibuutH  uf  a 
hunilnd  tons  luirilen  nuw  Ncireely  creep  along  it.s  eliunnel,  v\iiich  would 
form  coekbuats  ir  the  lloating  palaces  tu  he  seen  here  in  the  daya  of 
itii  veinul  and  aulumiial  glory. 

Truly  yours, 

IIENUV  U.  COLCRAFT 


t 


n. 

Grave  C»ekk  Flats  (Va.),  August  23,  1S43. 

I  HAVE  devoted  several  days  to  the  examination  of  the  antiquities  of 
this  place  and  its  vicinity,  and  find  them  to  be  of  even  more  interest 
than  was  anticipated.  The  most  promiin  nt  object  of  curiosity  is  the 
great  tumulus,  of  which  notices  have  appeared  in  western  papers  ;  hut 
this  heavy  structure  of  earth  is  not  isolated.  It  is  but  one  of  u  series 
of  mounds  and  other  evidences  of  ancient  occupation  at  this  point,  of 
more  than  ordinary  interest.  1  liave  visited  and  examined  seven  mounds, 
situated  w  ithin  a  short  distance  of  each  other.  They  occupy  the  summit 
level  of  a  rich  alluvial  plain,  stretching  on  the  left  or  Virginia  hank  of 
the  Ohio,  between  the  junctions  of  Big  and  Little  Grave  Creeks  with 
that  stream.  They  appear  to  have  been  connected  by  low  earthen 
rntreiichments,  of  which  plain  traces  are  still  vi.sible  on  some  parts  of 
the  commons.  They  included  a  well,  stoned  up  in  the  usual  manner, 
which  is  now  filled  with  rubbish. 

The  summit  of  this  plain  is  prohahly  seventy-five  feet  above  the 
present  sumuuT  level  of  the  Ohio.  It  constitutes  the  second  bench,  or 
rise  of  land,  above  the  water.  It  is  on  this  summit,  and  on  one  of  the 
most  elevated  parts  of  it,  that  the  great  tumulus  stands.  It  is  in  the 
shape  of  a  broad  cone,  cut  off  at  the  apex,  where  it  is  some  fifty  feet 
acKKss.  This  area  is  (piite  level,  and  commands  a  view  of  the  entire 
plain,  and  of  the  river  above  and  below,  and  the  west  shores  of  the 
Ohio  in  front.  Any  public  transaction  on  this  area  would  be  visible  to 
nuiltiludes  around  it,  and  it  has,  in  this  respect,  all  the  advantages  of  the 
Mexican  and  Yucatanese  teocalii.  The  cireumference  of  the  base  has 
been  stated  at  a  little  under  nine  hundred  feet ;  the  height  is  sixty-nine 
feet. 

The  mo.4  interesting  object  of  antiquarian  inquiry  is  a  small  flat  stone, 
inscribed  with  antique  alphabetic  characters,  which  was  diselo.sed  on  the 
opening  of  the  largfa  niound.  These  characters  are  in  the  ancient  rock 
al|i!)abct  of  sixteen  right  and  acute  angled  single  stokes,  used  by  the 
Pela.sgi  and  other  early  Mediterranean  nations,  and  which  is  the  pareut 


m~>i 


I 


I;; 


312 


LETTERS     ON   THE     ANTIQUITIES 


of  the  modern  Runic  as  well  as  the  Bardic.  It  is  now  some  four  or  fire 
years  since  the  completion  of  the  excavations,  so  far  as  they  have;  been 
made,  and  the  discovery  of  this  relic.  Several  copies  of  it  soon  got 
abroad,  which  difiered  from  each  other,  and,  it  was  supposed,  from  the 
original.  This  conjecture  is  true  ;  neither  the  print  published  in  the 
Cincinnati  Gazette,  in  1839,  nor  that  in  the  American  Pioneer,  in  1843, 
is  correct.  I  have  terminated  this  uncertainty  by  taking  copies  by  a 
scientific  process,  which  does  not  leave  the  lines  and  figures  to  the 
uncertainty  of  man^s  pencil. 

The  existence  of  this  ancient  art  here  could  hardly  be  admitted,  other- 
wise than  as  an  insulated  fact,  without  some  corroborative  evidence,  in 
habits  and  customs,  which  it  would  be  reasonable  to  look  for  in  the 
existing  ruins  of  ancient  occupancy.  It  is  thought  some  such  testimony 
has  been  found.  I  rode  out  yesterday  three  miles  back  to  the  range  of 
high  hills  which  encompass  this  sub-valley,  to  see  a  rude  tower  of  stone 
standing  on  an  elevated  point,  called  Parr's  point,  which  commands  a 
view  of  the  whole  plain,  and  which  appears  to  have  been  constructed 
as  a  watch-tower,  or  look-out,  from  which  to  descry  an  approaching 
enemy.  It  is  much  dilapidated.  About  six  or  seven  feet  of  the  work 
is  still  entire.  It  is  circular,  and  composed  of  rough  stones,  laid  with- 
out mortar,  or  the  mark  of  a  hammer.  A  heavy  mass  of  fallen  wall  lies 
around,  covering  an  area  of  some  forty  feet  in  diameter.  Two  similar 
points  of  observation,  occupied  by  dilapidated  towers,  are  represented  to 
exist,  one  at  the  prominent  summit  of  the  Ohio  and  Grave  Creek  hills, 
and  another  on  the  promontory  on  the  oppo,site  side  of  the  Ohio,  in 
Belmont  county,  Ohio. 

It  is  known  to  all  acquainted  with  the  warlike  habits  of  our  Indians, 
that  they  never  have  evinced  the  foresight  to  post  a  regular  sentry,  and 
these  rude  towers  may  be  regarded  as  of  cotemporaneous  age  with  the 
interment  of  the  inscription. 

Several  polished  tubes  of  stone  have  been  found,  in  one  of  the  le.sser 
mounds,  the  use  of  which  is  not  very  apparent.  One  of  these,  now  on 
my  table,  is  12  inches  long,  1^  wide  at  one  end,  and  1^  at  the  other.  It 
is  made  of  a  fine,  compact,  lead  blue  steatite,  inottlcd,  and  has  been 
constructed  by  boring,  in  the  manner  of  a  gun  barrel.  This  boring  is  con- 
tinued to  w  ithin  about  three-eighths  of  an  inch  of  the  larger  end,  through 
which  but  a  small  aperture  is  left.  If  this  small  aperture  be  looked 
through,  objects  at  a  tlistance  are  more  clearly  seen.  Whether  it  had 
this  telescopic  use,  or  others,  the  degree  of  art  evinced  in  its  construc- 
tion is  far  from  rude.  By  inserting  a  wooden  rod  and  valve,  this  tube 
would  be  converted  into  a  powerful  syphon,  or  syringe. 

I  have  not  space  to  notice  one  or  two  additional  traits,  which  serve  to 
awaken  new  interest  at  this  ancient  point  of  aboriginal  and  apparently 
mixed  settlement,  and  must  omit  them  till  my  next. 


OP   THE   WESTERN    COUNTRY. 


313 


III. 

Grave  Creek  Flats,  August  24,  1843. 

The  great  mound  at  these  flats  was  opened  as  a  place  of  public  resort 
about  four  years  ago.  For  this  purpose  a  horizontal  gallery  to  its  centre 
was  dug  and  bricked  up,  and  provided  with  a  door.  The  centre  was 
walled  round  as  a  rotunda,  of  about  twenty-five  feet  diameter,  and  a 
shaft  sunk  from  the  top  to  intersect  it ;  it  was  in  these  two  excavations 
that  the  skeletons  and  accompanying  relics  and  ornaments  were  found. 
All  these  articles  arc  arranged  for  exhibition  in  this  rotunda,  which  is 
lighted  up  with  candles.  The  lowermost  skeleton  is  almost  entire,  and 
in  a  good  state  of  preservation,  and  is  put  up  by  means  of  wires,  on  the 
walls.  It  has  been  overstretdied  in  the  process  so  as  to  measure  six 
feet ;  it  should  be  about  five  feet  eight  inches.  It  exhibits  a  noble  frame 
of  the  human  species,  bearing  a  skull  with  craniological  developments 
of  a  highly  favorable  charcter.  The  face  bones  are  elongated,  with  a 
long  chin  and  symmetrical  jaw,  in  which  a  full  and  fine  set  of  teeth, 
above  and  below,  are  present.  The  skeletons  in  the  upper  vault,  where 
the  inscription  stone  was  found,  are  nearly  all  destroyed. 

It  is  a  damp  and  gloomy  repository,  and  exhibits  in  the  roof  and  walls 
of  the  rotunda  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  sepulchral  displays  which 
the  world  affords.  On  casting  the  eye  up  to  the  ceiling,  and  the  heads 
of  the  pillars  supporting  it,  it  is  found  to  be  encrusted,  or  rather  fes- 
tooned, with  a  white,  soft,  flaky  mass  of  matter,  which  had  exuded  from 
the  mound  above.  This  apparently  animal  exudation  is  as  white  as 
enow.  It  hangs  in  pendent  masses  and  globular  drops  ;  the  surface  is 
covered  with  large  globules  of  clear  water,  which  in  the  reflected  light 
have  all  the  brilliancy  of  diamonds.  These  drops  of  water  trickle  to  the 
floor,  and  occasionally  the  exuded  white  matter  falls.  The  wooden 
pillars  are  furnished  with  the  appearance  of  capitals,  by  this  substance. 
That  it  is  the  result  of  a  soil  highly  charged  with  particles  of  matter, 
arising  from  the  decay  or  incineration  of  human  bodies,  is  the  only 
theory  by  which  we  may  account  for  the  phenomenon.  Curious  and 
unique  it  certainly  is,  and  with  the  faint  light  of  a  few  candles  it  would 
not  require  much  imagination  to  invest  the  entire  rotunda  with  sylph- 
like forms  of  the  sheeted  dead. 

An  old  Cherokee  chief,  who  visited  this  scene,  recently,  with  his 
companions,  on  his  way  to  the  West,  was  so  excited  and  indignant  at 
the  desecration  of  the  tumulus,  by  this  display  of  bones  and  relics  *o  the 
gaze  of  the  white  race,  that  he  becanu?  furious  and  unmanageable  ;  his 
friends  and  interpreters  had  to  force  him  out,  to  prevent  his  assassinating 
the  guide  ;  and  soon  after  he  drowned  his  .senses  in  iilrohol. 

That  this  spot  was  a  very  ancient  jioint  of  seltknii-nt  by  the  hunter 


H'if 


P^'h' 


I 


:  I 

i 


814 


LETTERS   ON   THE    ANTIQUITIES 


race  in  th(.>  Oliio  valley,  and  that  it  was  inhabited  by  the  present  red 
race  of  North  American  Indians,  on  the  arrival  of  whites  west  of  the 
Alleghanies,  are  both  admitted  facts  ;  nor  would  the  historian  and  anti- 
quary ever  have  busied  themselves  farther  in  the  matter  had  not  the 
inscribed  stone  come  to  light,  in  the  year  1839.  I  was  informed,  yes- 
terday, that  another  inscri])tion  stone  had  been  found  in  one  of  the 
smaller  mounds  on  these  flats,  about  five  years  ago,  and  have  obtained 
data  suIBcient  as  to  its  present  location  to  put  the  Ethnological  Society 
on  its  trace.  If,  indeed,  these  inscriptions  shall  lead  us  to  admit  that 
the  continent  was  visited  by  Europeans  prior  to  the  era  of  Columbus,  it 
is  a  question  of  very  high  antiquarian  interest  to  determine  who  the 
visitors  were,  and  what  they  have  actually  left  on  record  in  these  antique 
tablets. 

I  have  only  time  to  add  a  single  additional  fact.  Among  the  articles 
found  in  this  cluster  of  mounds,  the  greater  part  are  commonplace,  in 
our  western  mounds  and  town  ruins.  I  have  noticed  but  one  which 
bears  the  character  of  that  unique  type  of  architecture  found  by  Mr. 
Stephens  and  Mr.  Catherwood  in  Central  America  and  Yucatan.  With 
the  valuable  monumental  standards  of  comparison  furnished  by  these 
gentlemen  before  me,  it  is  impossible  not  to  recognize,  in  an  ornamental 
stone,  found  in  one  of  the  lesser  mounds  here,  a  specimen  of  similar 
workmanship.  It  is  in  the  style  of  the  heavy  feather-sculptured  orna- 
ments of  Yucatan — the  material  being  a  wax  yellow  sand-stone,  dark- 
ened by  time.  1  have  taken  such  notes  and  drawings  of  the  objects 
above  referred  to,  as  will  enable  me,  I  trust,  in  due  time,  to  give  a  con- 
nected account  of  them  to  our  incipient  society. 


IV. 

Massillon,  Ohio,  August  27th,  1843. 
Since  my  last  letter  I  have  traversed  the  State  of  Ohio,  by  .stage,  to 
this  place.  In  coming  up  the  Virginia  banks  of  the  Ohio  from  Mounds- 
ville,  I  passed  a  monument,  of  simple  construction,  erected  to  the 
memory  of  a  Captain  Furman  and  twenty-one  men,  who  were  killed  by 
the  Indians,  in  1777,  at  that  spot.  They  had  been  out,  from  the  fort  at 
Wheelinc,  on  a  scouting  party,  and  were  waylaid  at  a  pass  called  the 
narrows.  The  Indians  had  dropped  a  pipe  and  some  trinkets  in  the 
path,  knowing  that  the  white  men  would  pick  them  up,  and  look  at 
them,  and  while  the  laiter  were  grouped  together  in  this  act,  they  fired 
and  killed  every  man.  The  Indians  certainly  fought  hard  for  the  pos- 
session of  this  valley,  aiming,  at  all  times,  to  make  up  by  stratagem  what 
they  lacked  in  numbers.     I  doubt  whether  there  is  in  the  history  of  the 


OP  THE  WEiTERN  COUNTRY. 


315 


spread  of  civilisation  over  the  woiM  a  theatre  so  rife  with  partisan 
adventure,  mtissacre  and  murder,  as  .he  valley  of  the  Ohio  and  iha 
country  west  of  the  Alleghany  generally  presented  between  the  break- 
ing out  of  the  American  revolution,  in  '7*3,  and  the  close  of  the  Black 
Hawk  war  in  1832.  The  true  era,  in  fact,  begins  with  the  French  war, 
in  1744,  and  terminates  with  the  Florida  war,  the  present  year.  A 
work  on  this  subject,  drawn  from  authentic  sources,  and  written  with 
spirit  and  talent,  would  be  read  with  avidity  and  possess  a  permanent 
interest. 

The  face  of  the  country,  from  the  Ohio  opposite  Wheeling  to  the 
waters  of  the  Tu.scarawas,  the  north  fork  of  the  Muskingum,  is  a  series 
of  high  rolling  ridges  and  knolls,  up  and  down  which  the  stage  travels 
slowly.  Yet  this  section  is  fertile  and  well  cultivated  in  wheat  and 
corn,  particularly  the  latter,  which  looks  well.  This  land  cannot  be 
purchased  under  forty  or  fifty  dollars  an  acre.  Much  of  it  was  originally 
bought  for  seventy-five  cents  per  acre.  It  was  over  this  high,  wavy  land, 
that  the  old  Moravian  missionary  road  to  Gnadenhutten  ran,  and  I  pur- 
sued it  to  within  six  miles  of  the  latter  place.  You  will  recollect  this 
locality  as  the  scene  of  the  infamous  murder,  by  Williamson  and  his 
party,  of  the  non-resisting  Christian  Delawares  under  the  ministry  of 
Heckewelder  and  Ziesberger. 

On  the  Stillwater,  a  branch  of  the  Tuscarawas,  we  first  come  to  level 
lands.  This  stream  was  noted,  in  early  days,  for  its  beaver  and  other 
furs.  The  last  beaver  seen  here  was  shot  on  its  banks  twelve  years 
ago.  It  had  three  legs,  one  having  probably  been  caught  in  a  trap  or 
been  bitten  off.  It  is  known  that  not  only  the  beaver,  but  the  otter, 
wolf  and  fox,  will  bite  off  a  foot,  to  escape  the  iron  jaws  of  a  trap.  It 
has  been  said,  but  I  know  not  on  what  good  authority,  that  the  hare 
will  do  the  same. 

We  first  struck  the  Ohio  canal  at  Dover.  It  is  in  every  respect  a 
well  constructed  work,  with  substantial  locks,  culverts  and  viaducts.  It 
is  fifty  feet  wide  at  the  top,  and  is  more  than  adequate  for  all  present 
purposes.  It  pursues  the  valley  of  the  Tuscarawas  up  to  the  summit, 
by  which  it  is  connected  with  the  Cuyahuga,  whose  outlet  is  at  Cleve- 
land. Towns  and  villages  have  sprung  up  along  its  banks,  where  before 
there  was  a  wilderness.  Nothing  among  them  impressed  me  more  than 
Ihe  town  of  Zoar,  which  is  exclusively  settled  by  Germans.  There 
lieems  sonvething  of  the  principles  of  association — one  of  the  fallacies  of 
the  age — in  its  large  and  single  town  store,  hotel,  &c.,  but  I  do  not 
know  how  far  they  may  extend.  Individual  property  is  held.  The 
evidences  of  thrift  and  skill,  in  cultivation  and  mechanical  and  mill  work, 
are  most  sirikirg.  Every  dwelling  here  is  surrounded  with  fruit  and 
fruit  trees.  The  botanical  garden  and  hot-house  are  on  a  large  scale, 
and  exhibit  a  favorable  specimen  of  the  present  state  of  horticulture. 


■t  ■  :■  IS 


316 


LETTERS    ON   THE    ANTIQUITIES 


One  of  the  assistants  very  kindly  plucked  for  me  some  fine  fruit,  and 
voluntarily  offered  it.  Zoar  is  quite  a  place  of  resort  as  a  ride  for  the 
neighiioring  towns.  I  may  remark,  en  passant,  that  there  is  a  large 
proportion  of  German  population  throughout  Ohio.  They  are  orderly, 
thrifty  and  industrious,  and  fall  readily  into  our  political  system  and 
habits.  Numbers  of  them  are  well  educated  in  the  German.  They 
embrace  Lutherans  as  well  as  Roman  Catholics,  the  latter  predomi- 
nating. 

Among  the  towns  which  have  recently  sprung  up  on  the  line  of  the 
canal,  not  the  least  is  the  one  from  which  I  date  this  letter.  The  name 
of  the  noU'd  French  divine  (Massillon)  was  affixed  to  an  uncultivated 
spot,  by  some  Boston  gentlemen,  some  twelve  or  fourteen  years  ago. 
It  is  now  one  of  the  most  thriving,  city-lookmg,  business  places  in  the 
interior  of  Ohio.  In  the  style  of  its  stores,  mills  and  architecture,  it 
reminds  the  visitor  of  that  extraordinary  growth  and  spirit  which  marked 
the  early  years  of  the  building  of  Rochester.  It  numbers  churches  for 
Episcopalians,  Baptists,  Methodists  and  Presbyterians,  and  also  Lu- 
therans and  Romanists.  About  three  hundred  barrels  of  flour  can  be 
turned  out  per  diem,  by  its  mills.  It  is  in  the  greatest  wheat-growing 
county  in  Ohio  (Stark),  but  is  not  the  county-seat,  which  is  at  Canton 


V. 

Detroit,  Sept.  15th,  1843. 
In  passing  from  the  interior  of  Ohio  toward  Lake  Erie,  the  face  of  the 
country  exhibits,  in  the  increased  size  and  number  of  its  boulder  stones, 
evidences  of  the  approach  of  the  traveller  toward  those  localities  of 
sienites  and  other  crystalline  rocks,  from  which  these  erratic  blocks  and 
water-worn  masses  appear  to  have  been,  in  a  remote  age  of  our  planet, 
removed.  The  soil  in  this  section  has  a  freer  mixture  of  the  broken 
down  slates,  of  w  hich  portions  are  still  in  place  on  the  shores  of  Lake 
Erie.  The  result  is  a  clayey  soil,  less  favorable  to  wheat  and  Indian 
corn.  We  came  down  the  cultivated  valley  of  the  Cuyahoga,  and 
reached  the  banks  of  the  lake  at  Ihe  fine  town  of  Cleveland,  which  is 
elevated  a  hundred  feet,  or  more,  above  it,  and  commands  a  very  ex- 
tensive view  of  the  lake,  the  harbor  and  its  ever-busy  shi])ping.  A  day 
was  employed,  by  stage,  in  this  section  of  my  tour,  and  the  next  carried 
me,  by  steamboat,  to  this  ancient  French  capital.  Detroit  has  many 
interesting  historical  associations,  and  appears  destined,  when  its  railroad 
is  finished,  to  be  the  chief  thoroughfare  for  travellers  to  Chicago  and  the 
Mississippi  valley-     As  my  attention  has,  however,  been  more  taken 


S^^r  TV^'-J^'Wnr^  -r^rr- 


OF  THE  WESTERN  COUNTRY. 


317 


up,  on  my  way,  with  the  past  than  the  present  and  future  condition  of 
the  West,  the  chief  interest  which  the  route  has  excited  must  necessarily 
arise  from  tlie  same  source. 

Michigan  connects  itseU'  in  its  antiquarian  features  with  that  chara:« 
tf  r  of  pseudo-civilisation,  or  modified  barharianism,  of  which  the  works 
«nd  mounds  and  circumvaUations  at  Grave  Creek  Fiats,  at  Marietta,  at 
Circleville  and  other  well  known  points,  are  evidences.  That  this 
improved  condition  of  the  hunter  state  had  an  ancient  but  partial  con- 
nection with  the  early  civilisation  of  Europe,  appears  now  to  be  a  fair 
inference,  from  the  inscribed  stone  of  Grave  Creek,  and  other  traces  of 
European  arts,  discovered  of  late.  It  is  also  evident  that  the  central 
American  type  of  the  civilisation,  or  rather  advance  to  civilisation,  of  the 
red  race,  reached  this  length,  and  finally  went  down,  with  its  gross  idol- 
atry and  horrid  rites,  and  was  merged  in  the  better  known  and  still  ex- 
isting form  of  the  hunter  state  which  was  found,  respectively,  by  Cabot, 
Cartier,  Verrezani,  Hudson,  and  others,  who  first  dropped  anchor  on  our 
eoasts. 

There  is  strong  evidence  furnished  by  a  survey  of  the  western  coun- 
try that  the  teocalli  type  of  the  Indian  civilisation,  so  to  call  it,  devel- 
oped itself  from  the  banks  of  the  Ohio,  in  Tennessee  and  Virginia,  west 
and  north-westwardly  across  the  sources  of  the  Wabash,  the  Musking- 
um and  other  streams,  toward  Lake  Michigan  and  the  borders  of  Wis- 
consin territory.  The  chief  evidences  of  it,  in  Michigan  and  Indiana, 
consist  of  a  remarkable  series  of  curious  garden  beds,  or  accurately  fur- 
rowed fields,  the  perfect  outlines  of  which  have  been  preserved  by  the 
grass  of  the  oak  openings  and  prairies,  and  even  among  the  heaviest  for- 
ests. These  remains  of  an  ancient  cultivation  have  attracted  much  atten- 
tion fron  observinr  settlers  on  the  Elkhart,  the  St.  Joseph's,  the  Kala- 
mazoo and  Grand  river  of  Michigan  I  possess  some  drawings  of  these 
anomalous  remains  of  by-gone  industry  iu  the  hunter  race,  taken  in  for- 
mer years,  which  are  quite  remarkable.  It  is  worthy  of  remark,  too, 
that  no  large  tumuli,  or  teocalli,  exist  in  this  particular  portion  of  the 
West,  the  ancient  population  of  which  may  therefore  be  su))posed  to 
have  been  borderers,  or  frontier  bands,  who  resorted  to  the  Ohio  valley 
as  their  capital,  or  place  of  annual  visitation.  All  the  mounds  scattered 
through  Northern  Ohio,  Indiana  and  Michigan,  are  mere  barrows,  or  re- 
positories of  the  dead,  and  would  seem  to  have  been  erected  posterior  to 
the  fall  or  decay  of  the  gross  idol  worship  and  the  offer  of  human  sacri- 
fice. I  have,  within  a  day  or  two,  received  a  singular  implement  or  or- 
nament of  stone,  of  a  crescent  shape,  from  Oakland,  in  this  State,  which 
connects  the  scattered  and  out-lying  remains  of  the  smaller  mounds, 
and  traces  of  ancient  agricultural  labor,  with  the  antiquities  of  Groro 
Croek  Flats 


!^t 


'     ;S 


i    Ifi  '• .' .  '< 


rJi 


I 


r 


II 


318 


LETTERS     ON   THE    ANTIQUITIES 


VI. 


Detroii',  Sept.  16th,  1843. 

The  antiquities  of  Western  America  are  to  be  judged  of  by  isolat- 
ed and  disjointed  discoveries,  which  are  often  made  at  widely  distant 
points  and  spread  over  a  very  extensive  area.  The  labor  of  comparison 
and  discrimination  of  the  .several  eras  which  the  objects  of  these  discov- 
eries establish,  is  increased  by  this  diifusion  and  disconnection  of  the 
times  and  places  oftheir  occurrence,  and  is,  more  than  all,  perhaps,  hin- 
dered and  put  back  by  the  eventual  carelessness  of  the  discoverers,  and 
the  final  loss  or  mutilation  of  the  articles  disclosed.  To  remedy  this  evil, 
every  discovery  made,  however  apparently  unimportant,  should  in  this 
era  of  the  diurnal  and  periodical  press  be  put  on  record,  and  the  objects 
themselves  be  either  carefully  kept,  or  given  to  some  public  scientific  in- 
stitution. 

An  Indian  chief  called  the  Black  Eagle,  of  river  Au  Sables  (Michigan), 
discovered  a  curious  antique  pipe  of  Etruscan  ware,  a  few  years  ago,  at 
Thunder  Bay.  This  pipe,  which  is  now  in  my  possession,  's  as  remark- 
able for  its  form  as  for  the  character  of  the  earthenware  irom  which  it 
is  made,  differing  as  it  does  so  entirely  from  the  coarse  earthen  pots  and 
vessels,  the  remains  of  which  are  scattered  so  generally  throughout 
North  America.  The  form  is  semi-circular  or  horn-shaped,  with  a  qua- 
drangular bowl,  and  having  impressed  in  the  ware  ornamentsat  each  angle. 
I  have  never  before,  indeed,  seen  any  pipes  of  Indian  manufacture  of 
baked  clay,  or  earthenware,  such  articles  being  generally  carved  out  of 
steatite,  indurated  clays,  or  other  .soft  mineral  substances.  It  is  a  pecu- 
liarity^ of  this  pipe  that  it  was  smoked  from  the  small  end,  which  is  rounded 
for  the  purpose  of  putting  it  between  the  lips,  without  the  intervention 
of  a  stem. 

The  discoverer  told  me  that  he  had  taken  it  from  a  very  antique  grave. 
A  large  hemlock  tree,  he  said,  had  been  blown  down  on  the  banks  of  the 
river,  tearing  up,  by  ils  roots,  a  large  mass  of  earth.  At  the  bottom  of  the 
excavation  thus  made  he  discovered  a  grave,  which  contained  a  vase, 
out  of  which  he  took  the  pipe  with  some  other  articles.  The  vase,  he 
said,  was  broken,  so  that  he  did  not  deem  it  worth  bringing  away.  The 
other  articles  he  described  as  bone's. 

Some  time  since  I  accompanied  the  chief  Kewakonce,  to  get  an  an- 
cient clay  pot,  such  as  the  Indians  used  when  the  Europeans  arrived  on 
the  continent.  He  said  that  he  had  discovered  two  such  pots,  in  an  en- 
tire state,  in  a  cave,  or  crevice,  on  one  of  the  rocky  islets  extending 
north  of  Point  Tessalon,  which  is  the  northern  cape  of  the  entrance  of 
the  Straits  of  St.  Mary's  into  Lake  Huron.  From  this  locality  he  had 
removed  one  of  them,  and  concealed  it  at  a  distant  point.     We  travelled 


OP    THE    WESTERN    COUNTRY. 


319 


in  canoes.  We  landed  on  the  northern  shore  of  the  large  island  of  St. 
Joseph,  which  occupies  the  jaws  of  those  expanded  straits.  He  led  me 
up  an  elevated  ridge,  covered  with  forest,  and  along  a  winding  narrow 
path,  conducting  to  some  old  Indian  cornfields.  All  at  once  he  stopped 
in  this  path.  "  We  are  now  very  near  it,"  he  said,  and  stood  still,  look- 
ing toward  the  spot  where  he  had  concealed  it,  beneath  a  decayed  trunk. 
He  did  not,  at  last,  appear  to  be  willing  to  risk  his  luck  in  life — such  is 
Indian  superstition— by  being  the  actual  discoverer  of  this  object  of  vene- 
ration to  a  white  man,  but  allowed  me  tc  make,  or  rather  complete,  the 
re-discovery. 

With  the  exception  of  being  cracked,  this  vessel  is  entire.  It  corres- 
ponds, in  material  and  character,  with  the  fragments  of  pottery  usually 
found.  It  is  a  coarse  ware,  tempered  with  quartz  or  feld-spar,  and  such 
as  would  admit  a  sudden  fire  to  be  built  around  it.  It  is  some  ten  inches 
in  diameter,  tulip-shaped,  with  a  bending  lip,  and  without  supports  be- 
neath. It  was  evidently  used  as  retorts  in  a  sand  bath,  there  being  no 
contrivance  for  suspending  it.  I  have  forwarded  this  curious  relic  entire 
to  the  city  for  examination.  I  asked  the  chief  who  presented  it  to  me, 
and  who  is  a  man  of  good  sense,  well  acquainted  with  Indian  traditions, 
how  long  it  was  since  such  vessels  had  been  used  by  his  ancestors.  He 
replied,  that  he  was  the  seventh  generation,  in  a  direct  line,  since  the 
French  had  first  arrrived  in  the  lakes. 


I  Ml' 


t'.    ! 


vn 

Detroit,  Sept.  16th,  1S43. 

There  was  found,  in  an  island  at  the  west  extremity  of  Lake  Huron, 
an  ancient  repository  of  human  bones,  which  appeared  to  have  been  gath- 
ered from  their  first  or  ordinary  place  of  sepulture,  and  placed  in  this 
rude  mausoleum.  The  island  is  called  Isle  Ronde  by  the  French,  and  is 
of  small  dimensions,  although  it  has  a  rocky  basis  and  affords  sugar  ma- 
ple and  other  trees  of  the  hard  wood  species.  This  repository  was  first 
disclosed  by  th6  action  of  the  lak^  agains^  a  diluvial  shore,  in  which  the 
bones  were  buried.  At  the  time  of  my  visit,  vertebrse,  tibiae,  portions  of 
crania  and  other  bones  were  scattered  down  the  fallen  bank,  and  served 
to  denote  the  place  of  their  interment,  which  was  on  the  margin  of  the 
plain.  Some  persons  supposed  that  the  leg  and  thigh  bones  denoted  an 
unusual  length  ;  but  by  placing  them  hip  by  hip  with  the  living  speci> 
men,  this  opinion  was  not  sustained. 

All  these  bones  had  been  placed  longitudinally.  They  were  arranged  in 
order,  in  a  wide  grave,  or  trench.  Contrary  to  the  usual  practice  of  the  pre- 
sent tribes  of  red  men,  the  skeletons  were  laid  north  and  south.     1  asked 


1|:  :i> 


i,  i^^-^:'r:Ah 


Si?! 


320 


LETTERS    ON    THE    ANTIQUITIES 


several  of  the  most  agod  Indian  ch'ujfs  in  tliat  vicinity  for  information  re- 
specting these  bones — by  what  tribe  tliey  had  been  deposited,  and  why 
they  hud  been  hiid  north  and  south,  and  not  east  and  west,  as  they  uni- 
formly bury.  But,  with  the  usual  result  as  to  early  Indian  traditions, 
they  had  no  information  to  oH'er.  Chusco,  an  old  Ottawa  prophet,  since 
dead,  remarked  that  they  were  probably  of  the  time  of  the  Indian  bones 
found  in  the  caves  on  the  island  of  Michilimackinac. 

In  a  small  plain  on  the  same  island,  near  the  above  repository,  is  a  long 
abandoned  Indian  burial-ground,  in  which  the  interments  are  made  in  the 
ordinary  way.  This,  I  understood  from  the  Indians,  is  of  the  era  of  the 
occupation  of  Old  Mackinac,  or  Peekwutinong,  as  they  continue  to  call 
it — a  place  which  has  been  abandoned  by  both  whites  and  Indians,  sol- 
diers and  missionaries,  about  seventy  years.  I  caused  excavations  to  be 
made  in  these  graves,  and  found  their  statements  to  be  generally  verified 
by  the  character  of  the  articles  deposited  with  the  skeletons;  at  least 
they  were  all  of  a  date  posterior  to  the  discovery  of  this  part  of  the  coun- 
try by  the  French.  There  were  found  the  oxydated  remains  of  the  brass 
mountings  of  a  chiefs  fusil,  corroded  fire  steels  and  other  steel  imple- 
ments, Vermillion,  wampum,  and  other  cherished  oi  valued  articles.  I 
sent  a  perfect  skull,  taken  from  one  of  these  graves,  to  Dr.  Morton,  the 
author  of  '*  Crania,"  while  he  was  preparing  that  work.  No  Indians 
have  resided  on  this  island  within  the  memory  of  any  white  man  or  In- 
dian with  whom  I  have  conversed.  An  ajed  chief  whom  I  interrogated, 
called  Saganosh,  who  has  now  been  dead  some  five  or  six  years,  told  mo 
that  he  was  a  small  boy  when  the  present  settlement  on  the  island  of 
Michilimackinac  was  commenced,  and  the  English  first  took  post  there, 
and  began  to  remove  their  cattle,  &c.,  from  the  old  fort  on  the  peninsula, 
and  it  was  about  that  time  that  the  Indian  village  of  Minnisains,  or  Isle 
Ronde,  was  abandoned.  It  had  before  formed  a  link,  as  it  were,  in  the 
traverse  of  this  part  of  the  lake  (Huron)  in  canoes  to  old  Mackinac. 

The  Indians  opposed  the  transfer  of  the  post  to  the  island  of  Michili- 
mackinac, and  threatened  the  troops  who  were  yet  in  the  field.  They 
had  no  cannon,  but  the  commanding  officer  sent  a  vessel  to  Detroit  for 
one.  This  vessel  had  a  quick  trip,  down  and  up,  and  brought  up  a 
gun,  which  was  fired  the  evening  she  came  into  the  harbor.  This  pro- 
duced an  impression.  I  have  made  some  inquiries  to  fix  the  date  of  this 
transfer  of  posts,  and  think  it  was  at  or  about  the  opening  of  the  era  of  the 
American  revolution,  at  which  period  the  British  garrison  did  not  feel 
itself  safe  in  a  mere  stockade  of  timber  on  the  main  shore.  This  stock- 
ade, dignified  with  the  name  of  a  fort,  had  not  been  burned  on  the  taking 
of  it,  by  surprise,  and  the  massacre  of  the  English  troops  by  the  Indians, 
during  Pontiac's  war.  This  massacre,  it  will  be  recollected,  was  in  1763 
— 4welve  years  before  the  opening  of  the  American  war. 


OF   THE   WESTERN    COUNTRY. 


VIII. 


321 


Detroit,  Oct.  13lh,  1843. 

The  so-called  copper  rock  of  Lake  Superior  was  brought  to  this  place, 
a  tluy  or  two  since,  in  a  vessel  from  Sault  Sle-Marie,  having  been  trans- 
ported from  its  original  locality,  on  the  Ontonagon  river,  at  no  small  labor 
and  expense.  It  is  upwards  of  twenty-three  years  since  I  first  visited 
this  remarkable  specimen  of  native  copper,  in  the  forests  of  Lake  Supe- 
rior. It  has  been  somewhat  diminished  in  size  and  weight,  in  the  mean- 
time, by  visitors  and  travellers  in  that  remote  quarter  ;  but  retains,  vcty 
well,  its  original  character  and  general  features. 

I  have  just  returned  from  a  re-examination  of  it  in  a  store,  in  one  of 
the  main  streets  of  this  city,  where  it  has  been  deposited  by  the  present 
proprietor,  who  designs  to  exhibit  it  to  the  curious.  Its  greatest  length 
is  four  feet  six  inches  ;  its  greatest  width  about  four  feet ;  its  maximum 
thickness  eighteen  inches.  These  are  rough  measurements  with  the  rule. 
It  is  almost  entirely  composed  of  malleable  copper,  and  bears  striking 
marks  of  the  visits  formerly  paid  to  it,  in  the  evidences  of  portions  which 
have  from  time  to  time  been  cut  off.  There  are  no  scales  in  the  city 
large  enough,  or  other  means  of  ascertaining  its  precise  weight,  and  of 
thus  terminating  the  uncertainty  arising  from  the  several  estimates  here- 
tofore made.  It  has  been  generally  estimated  here,  since  its  arrival,  to 
weigh  between  six  and  seven  thousand  pounds,  or  about  three  and  a  half 
tons,  and  is  by  far  the  largest  known  and  described  specimen  of  native 
copper  on  the  globe.  Rumors  of  a  larger  piece  in  South  America  are 
apocryphal. 

The  acquisition,  to  the  curious  and  scientific  world,  of  this  extraordi- 
nary mass  of  native  metal  is  at  least  one  of  the  practical  results  of  the 
copper-mining  mania  which  carried  so  many  adventurers  northward,  into 
the  region  of  Lake  Superior,  the  past  summer  (1843).  The  person  who 
has  secured  this  treasure  (Mr.  J.  Eldred)  Has  been  absent,  on  the  busi- 
ness, since  early  in  June.  He  succeeded  in  removing  it  from  its  diluvial 
bed  on  the  banks  of  the  river,  by  a  car  and  sectional  railroad  of  two  links, 
formed  of  timber.  The  motive  power  was  a  tackle  attached  to  trees, 
which  was  worked  by  men,  from  fourteen  to  twenty  of  whom  were 
employed  upon  it.  These  rails  were  alternately  moved  forward,  as  the 
car  passed  from  the  hindmost. 

In  this  manner  the  rock  was  dragged  four  miles  and  a  half,  across  a 
rough  country,  to  a  curve  of  the  river  below  its  falls,  and  below  the 
junction  of  its  forks,  where  it  was  received  bj'  a  boat,  and  conveyed  to 
the  mouth  of  the  river,  on  the  lake  shore.  At  this  point  it  was  put  on 
board  a  schooner,  and  taken  to  the  falls,  or  Sault  Ste-Marie,  and  thence, 
having  been  transported  across  the  portage,  embarked  for  Detroit.    The 

21 


;!■:'  m 


322 


LETTERS    ON    THE    ANTIQUITIES 


entire  distance  to  this  place  is  a  little  within  one  thousand  milei ;  tlire« 
hundred  and  twenty  of  which  lie  beyond  St.  Mary's. 

What  is  to  be  its  future  history  and  disposition  remains  to  be  seen.  It 
will  probably  find  its  way  to  the  museum  of  the  National  Institute  in  the 
new  patent  office  at  Washington.  This  would  be  appropriate,  and  it  is 
stated  that  the  authorities  have  asserted  their  ultimate  claim  to  it,  probably 
under  the  3d  article  of  the  treaty  of  Fond  du  Lac,  of  the  5th  of  August, 
1826. 

I  have  no  books  at  hand  to  refer  to  the  precise  time,  so  far  as  known, 
when  this  noted  mass  of  copper  first  became  known  to  Europeans. 
Probably  a  hundred  and  eighty  years  have  elapsed.  Marquette,  and  his 
devoted  companion,  pa-'sed  up  the  shores  of  Lake  Superior  about  1668, 
which  was  several  years  before  the  discovery  of  the  Mississippi,  by  that 
eminent  missionary,  by  the  way  of  the  Wisconsin.  From  the  letters  of 
D'Ablon  at  Sault  Ste-Marie,  it  appears  to  have  been  known  prior  to  the 
arrival  of  La  Salle.  These  allusions  will  be  sufficient  to  show  that  the 
rock  has  a  historical  notoriety.  Apart  from  this,  it  is  r.  specimen  which 
is,  both  mineralogically  and  geologically,  well  worthy  of  national  pre- 
servation. 

It  is  clearly  a  boulder,  and  bears  marks  of  attrition  from  the  action 
of  water,  on  some  parts  of  its  rocky  surface  as  well  as  the  metallic 
portions.  A  minute  mineralogical  examination  and  description  of  it  are 
required.  The  adhering  rock,  of  which  there  is  less  now  than  in  1820, 
is  apparently  serpentine,  in  some  parts  steatitic,  whereas  the  copper  ores 
of  Keweena  Point  on  that  lake,  are  found  exclusively  in  the  amygdaloids 
and  greenstones  of  the  trap  formation.  A  circular  depression  of  opaque 
crystalline  quartz,  in  the  form  of  a  semi-geode,  exists  in  one  face  of  it ; 
other  parts  of  the  mass  disclose  the  same  mineral.  Probably  300  lbs.  of 
the  metal  have  been  hacked  off,  or  detached  by  steel  chisels,  since  it  has 
been  known  to  the  whites,  most  of  this  within  late  years. 


IX. 

Detroit,  Oct.  16th,  1843. 
IN  the  rapid  development  of  the  resources  and  wealth  of  the  West, 
there  is  no  object  connected  with  the  navigation  of  the  upper  lakes  of 
more  prospective  importance  than  the  improvement  of  the  delta,  or  flats 
of  the  St.  Clair.  It  is  here  that  the  only  practical  impediment  occurs  to 
the  passage  of  heavy  shipping,  between  Bufialo  and  Chicago.  This 
delta  is  formed  by  deposits  at  the  point  of  discharge  of  the  river  St.  Clair, 
into  Lake  St.  Clair,  and  occurs  at  the  estimated  distance  of  about  thir^- 


OF    THE   WESTERN    COUNTRY. 


323 


miles }  tl>re« 

)  be  seen.  It 
istitute  in  the 
iate,  and  it  is 
to  it,  probably 
»th  of  August, 

far  as  known, 
;o  Europeans, 
[juette,  and  his 
or  about  1668, 
i3sippi>  by  that 
n  the  letters  of 
wn  prior  to  the 
)  shovr  that  the 
ipecimen  which 
)f  national  pre- 

from  the  action 
as  ihe  metallic 
pription  of  it  are 
w  than  in  1820, 
}  the  copper  ores 
the  amygdaloids 
ession  of  opaque 
[J  one  face  of  it ; 
lably  300  lbs.  of 
lisels,  since  it  has 


16th,  1843. 
tlth  of  the  West, 
he  upper  lakes  of 
[the  delU,  or  flats 
ediment  occurs  to 
Chicago.  This 
[he  river  St.  Clair, 
le  of  about  thirty- 


six  miles  above  the  city.  ThH  flats  arc  fan-shaped,  and  spread,  I  am 
inclined  to  think,  upward  of  fifteen  miles,  on  the  line  of  their  greatest 
expansion. 

There  are  three  principal  channels,  besides  sub-channels,  which  cany 
a  depth  of  from  four  to  six  fathotrs  to  the  very  point  of  their  exit  into 
the  lake,  where  there  is  a  bar  in  each.  This  bar,  as  is  shown  by  the 
chart  of  a  survey  made  by  otHcers  Macomb  and  Warner,  of  the  topogra* 
phical  engineers,  in  1842,18  very  similar  to  the  bars  at  the  mouths  of  the 
upper  lake  rivers,  and  appears  to  be  susceptible  of  removal,  or  improve* 
ment,  by  similar  means.  The  north  channel  carries  nine  feet  of  water 
over  this  bar,  the  present  season,  and  did  the  same  in  1842,  and  is  the 
one  exclusively  used  by  vessels  and  steamboats.  To  the  latter  this  tor- 
tuous channel,  which  is  above  ten  miles  farther  round  than  the  middle 
channel,  presents  no  impediment,  besides  the  intricacies  of  the  bar,  but 
increased  distance. 

It  is  otherwise,  and  ever  must  remain  so,  to  vessels  propelled  by  sails 
Such  vessels,  coming  up  with  a  fair  wind,  find  the  bend  so  acute  and 
involved  at  Point  aux  Chcnea^  at  the  head  of  this  channel,  as  to  bring  the 
wind  directly  ahead.  They  are,  consequently,  compelled  to  cast  anchor, 
and  await  u  change  of  wind  to  turn  this  point.  A  delay  of  eighi  or  ten 
days  in  the  upward  passage,  is  not  uncommon  at  this  place.  Could  the 
bar  of  the  middle  channel,  which  is  direct,  be  improved,  the  saving  in 
both  time  and  distance  above  indicated  would  be  made.  This  is  an 
object  of  public  importance,  interesting  to  all  the  lake  States  and  Territo- 
ries, and  would  constitute  a  subject  of  useful  consideration  for  Con- 
gress. Every  year  is  adding  to  the  number  and  size  of  our  lake 
vessels.  The  rate  of  increase  which  doubles  our  population  in  a  given 
number  of  years  must  also  increase  the  lake  tonnage,  and  add  new 
motives  for  the  improvement  of  its  navigation. 

Besides  the  St.  Clair  delta,  I  know  of  no  other  impediment  in  the 
channel  itself,  throughout  the  great  line  of  straits  between  Buffalo  and 
Chicago,  which  prudence  and  good  seamanship,  and  well  found  vessels, 
may  not  ordinarily  surmount.  The  rapids  at  Black  Rock,  once  so  formi- 
dable, have  long  been  obviated  by  the  canal  dam.  The  straits  of  Detroit 
have  been  well  surveyed,  and  afford  a  deep,  navigable  channel  at  all 
times.  The  rapids  at  the  head  of  the  river  St.  Clair,  at  Port  Huron, 
have  a  sufficiency  of  water  for  vessels  of  the  largest  class,  and  only 
require  a  fair  wind  for  their  ascent. 

The  straits  of  Michilimackinac  are  believed  to  be  on  the  same  water 
level  as  Lakes  Huron  and  Michigan,  and  only  present  the  phenomenon 
of  a  current  setting  east  or  west,  in  compliance  with  certain  laws  of  the 
reaction  of  water  driven  by  winds.  Such  are  the  slight  impediments  on 
this  extraordinary  line  of  inland  lake  navigation,  which  is  carried  on  at 
an  average  altitude  of  something  less  than  600  feet  above  the  tide  lerel 


324 


LGTTP.RS    ON   TIIK    ANTIQUITIES 


•f  the  Atlantic.  Wlicn  this  line  of  commcrco  rfquiros  to  be  diverte' 
north,  thi'uu;^h  thu  NlrulLs  of  St.  ?>Iury\s  intu  Luke  Superior,  a  period  rnp« 
idiyap|iroacliin<r,  li  short  cumil  of  three-fourths  of  n  mihr  will  be  required 
■t  the  Sault  Ste-.Murie,  and  some  excavation  made,  bo  aa  to  permit  ves- 
fels  of  heavy  tonnagu  to  cross  thu  bar  in  Luke  George  of  those  straits. 


X. 

DuNDAs,  Canada  West,  Oct.  2Gth,  1843. 

FoBTtTNATELV  for  tlie  study  of  American  antiquities  the  aborigineg 
have,  from  the  earliest  period,  practised  the  interment  of  their  arms, 
utensils  and  ornaments,  with  the  dead,  thus  furnishing  evidence  of  the  par- 
ticular state  of  their  skill  in  the  arts,  at  the  re.spective  eras  of  their  history. 
To  a  people  without  letters  there  coulil  scarcely  liave  been  a  better  in- 
dex than  such  domestic  monuments  furnish,  to  determini'f  these  eras  ;  and 
it  is  hence  that  the  examination  of  their  mounds  and  burial-places 
assumes  so  imi)ortant  a  character  in  the  investigation  of  history.  Here* 
tofore  these  injuiries  have  been  confined  to  portions  of  the  continent 
louth  and  west  of  the  great  chain  of  lakes  and  the  St.  Lawrence  ;  but 
the  advancing  settlements  in  Canada,  at  this  time,  are  beginning  to  dis« 
close  objects  of  this  kind,  and  thus  enlarge  the  fittld  of  inquiry. 

I  had,  yesterday,  quite  an  interesting  excursion  to  one  of  these  ancient 
places  of  sepulture  north  of  the  head  of  Lake  Ontario.  The  locality  is 
in  the  township  of  Beverly,  about  twelve  miles  distant  from  Dundas. 
The  lector  of  the  parish,  the  Kev.  Mr.  McMurray,  had  kindly  made 
arrangements  for  my  visit.  We  set  out  at  a  very  early  hour,  on  horse- 
back, the  air  being  keen,  and  the  mud  and  water  in  the  road  so  com- 
pletely frozen  as  to  bear  our  horses.  We  ascended  the  mountain  and 
passed  on  to  the  table  land,  about  four  miles,  to  the  house  of  a  worthy 
parishioner  of  Mr.  McM.,  by  whom  we  were  kindly  welcomed,  and  after 
giving  us  a  warm  breakfast,  he  took  us  on,  with  a  stout  team,  about  six 
miles  on  the  Guelph  road.  Diverging  from  this,  about  two  miles  to  the 
left,  through  a  heavy  primitive  forest,  with  occasional  clearings,  we  came 
•to  the  spot.     It  is  in  the  6th  concession  of  Bciverly. 

We  were  now  about  seventeen  miles,  by  the  road,  from  the  extreme 
head  of  Lake  Ontario,  at  the  town  of  Hamilton,  Jjurlington  Bay  ;  and  on 
one  of  the  main  branches  of  the  bright  and  busy  mill-stream  of  the  valley 
of  Dundas.  As  ibis  part  of  the  country  is  yet  encumbered  w  ith  dense 
end  almost  unbroken  masses  of  trees,  with  roads  unformed,  we  had  fre- 
quently to  inquire  our  way,  and  at  length  stopped  on  the  skirts  of  an 
•elevated  beech  ridge,  upon  which  the  trees  stood  as  large  and  tUickly  a.'t 


OF   THB   WKSTF.nN    COUNTRY. 


325 


in  other  parts  of  tlic  forest.  Tliorc  was  iiulhiiig  nt  first  sight  to  betoken 
that  till!  hunil  of  iiiuii  hud  i-ver  liecn  cxtMoisctl  tlu-rc.  Yet  thin  wocxled 
riilgir  PiiibraceJ  tlie  luoulily  \v<!  wt'tv  n  ((ucst  ul\  nnd  the  iu)ti<|uity  uf 
intt-rincnts  and  nccum  .lutiuns  of  hum  m  bones  on  this  height  is  to  be 
ii)f<MTfd,  from  their  occurrence  amidst  tliis  t'onst,  and  beneath  the  rocta 
of  tlie  htigest  trees. 

It  is  some  five  or  six  years  since  the  discovery  was  made.  It  happened 
from  the  blowing  down  of  a  large  tree,  whose  roots  laid  bare  a  iiu;intky 
oriiuman  bones.  Search  was  then  made, and  has  been  renewed  at  sub< 
sequent  limes,  the  result  uf  wiiieh  has  been  the  disclosure  of  human  skc* 
letons  in  such  ubund.iiice  and  m.is.tive  (|u:iiii<ties  as  to  produce  astonish- 
ment. This  is  the  chaiacteri.stic  feature.  Wjio  the  peorle  were,  and 
how  such  an  aceumulutioii  should  have  occurred,  are  .piestions  \>hich 
liave  been  often  a.sl<ed.  And  the  inlerest  of  the  scene  is  by  no  mednii 
les.sened  on  observing  that  the  greater  part  of  these  bones  are  de|>osited, 
not  ill  isolated  an>i  single  graves  as  tlie  In<li.ins  now  bury,  hut  in  wide 
and  long  trenches  and  rude  vaults,  in  which  the  skeletons  are  piled  lon- 
gitudinally upon  each  other.  In  this  respect  they  resemble  a  single  de- 
posit, mentioned  '•!  a  prior  letter,  as  occurring  on  Ixle  Ilonde,  in  Lake 
Huron.  And  they  would  appear,  as  is  the  cusit  with  the  latter,  to  be 
re-intermen's  of  bodies,  after  the  lU'sh  had  decayed,  collected  from  their 
first  places  of  sepulture. 

No  one — not  the  oldest  inhabitant — remembers  the  residence  of  In- 
dians ill  this  location,  nor  docs  there  appear  to  l)e  any  tradition  on  the 
subject.  It  is  a  common  opinion  among  the  settlers  that  there  must 
have  been  a  great  battle  fought  here,  which  would  account  for  the  accu- 
mulation, but  this  idea  does  not  appear  to  be  sustained  by  an  examina- 
tion of  the  skulls,  which,  so  far  as  I  saw,  exhibit  no  marks  of  violence. 
Besides,  there  arc  present  the  bones  and  crania  of  women  and  childreOi 
with  implements  and  articles  of  domestic  use,  such  as  are  ordinarily  depo- 
sited with  the  dead.  The  supposition  of  pestilence,  to  account  for  the 
number,  is  subject  to  less  objection  ;  yet,  if  admitted,  there  is  no  imagi- 
nable state  of  Indian  population  in  this  quarter,  which  could  have  pro* 
duced  such  heaps.  The  trenches,  so  far  as  examined,  extend  over  the 
entire  ridge.  One  of  the  transverse  deposits,  I  judged,  could  not  include 
less  than  fifteen  hundred  square  feet.  The  whole  of  this  had  been  once 
dug  over,  in  search  of  curiosities,  such  as  pipes,  shells,  beads,  &c.,  of 
which  a  large  number  were  found.  Among  the  evidences  of  interments 
here  since  the  discovery  of  Canada,  were  several  brass  kettles,  in  one  of 
which  were  five  infant  skulls. 

Could  we  determine  accurately  the  time  required  for  the  growth  of  a 
beech,  or  a  black  oak,  as  they  are  found  on  these  deposits,  of  sixteen, 
eighteen  and  twenty  inches  and  two  feet  in  diameter,  the  date  of  the 
abandonment  or  completion  of  the  interments  might  be  very  nearly  fixed. 


ii 


1: 


I'.lfl 


,1  ■■;■ 


(■'•:',,     ■:■!-' 


t^i^^liik,' 


326 


ANTIQUITIES    OF   THE    WESTERN    COUNTRY. 


The  time  of  the  growth  of  these  species  is,  probably,  much  less,  in  the 
temperate  latitudes,  and  in  fertile  soils,  than  is  commonly  supposed.  I 
am  inclined  to  think,  from  a  hasty  survey,  that  the  whole  deposit  is  the 
result  of  the  slow  accumulation  of  both  ordinary  interment,  and  the  peri- 
odical deposit  or  re-in<erment  of  exhumed  bones  brought  from  contigu- 
ous hunting  camps  and  villages.  To  this,  pestilence  has  probably  added. 
The  ridge  is  said  to  be  the  apex  or  highest  point  of  the  table  lands,  and 
would  therefore  recommend  itself,  as  a  place  of  general  interment,  to  the 
natives.  Bands,  who  rove  from  place  to  place,  and  often  capriciously 
abandon  their  hunting  villages,  are  averse  to  iesiving  their  dead  in  such 
isolated  spot^.  The  surrounding  country  is  one  which  must  have  afforded 
all  the  spontaneous  means  of  Indian  subsistence,  in  great  abundance. 
The  deer  and  bear,  once  very  numerous,  still  abound. 

We  passed  some  ancient  beaver  dams,  and  were  informed  that  the 
country  east  and  north  bears  similar  evidences  of  its  former  occupation  by 
the  small  furred  animals.  The  occurrence  of  the  sugar  maple  adds 
another  element  of  Indian  subsistence.  There  are  certain  enigmatical 
walls  of  earth,  in  this  vicinity,  which  extend  several  miles  across  the 
country,  following  the  leading  ridges  of  land.  Accounts  vary  in  repre- 
senting them  to  extend  from  five  to  eight  miles.  These  I  did  not  see, 
but  learn  that  they  are  about  .six  feet  high,  and  present  intervals  as  if  for 
gates.  There  is  little  likelihood  that  these  walls  were  constructed  for 
purposes  of  military  defence,  remote  as  they  are  from  the  great  waters, 
and  aside  from  the  great  leading  war-paths.  It  is  far  more  probable  that 
they  were  intended  to  intercept  the  passage  of  game,  and  compel  the  deer 
to  pass  through  these  artificial  defiles,  where  the  hunters  lay  in  wait  for 
them. 

Ancient  Iroquois  tradition,  as  preserved  by  Coldcn,  represents  this 
section  of  Canada,  extending  quite  to  Three  Rivers,  as  occupied  by 
the  Adirondjicks  ;  a  numerous,  fierce,  and  warlike  race,  who  carried  on 
a  determined  war  against  the  Iroquois.  The  same  race,  who  were 
marked  as  speaking  a  different  type  of  languages,  were,  at  an  early  day, 
called  by  the  French  by  the  general  term  of  Algonquins.  They  had 
three  chit'f  residi  aces  on  the  Utawas  and  its  sources,  and  retired  north- 
westwardly, by  that  route,  on  the  increase  of  the  Iroquois  power.  Who- 
ever the  people  were  who  hunted  and  buried  their  dead  at  Beverly,  it  is 
manifest  that  they  occupied  the  district  at  and  prior  to  the  era  of  the  dis- 
covery of  Canada,  r-nd  also  continued  to  occupy  it,  after  the  French  had 
introduced  the  fur  trade  into  the  interior.  For  we  find,  in  the  manufac- 
tured articles  buried,  the  distinctive  evidences  of  both  periods. 

The  antique  bone  beads,  of  which  we  raised  many,  in  silu,  with  crania 
and  other  bones,  fr»in  beneath  the  roois  of  trees,  are  in  every  respect 
similar  to  those  found  in  the  Grave  Creek  mound,  which  have  been  im- 
properly called  "  ivory."     Amulets  of  bone  and  shell,  and  pipes  of  fine 


TBK  LONB  UOnTHINO. 


327 


steatite  and  indurated  red  clay,  are  also  of  this  early  period,  and  are 
sucli  as  were  generally  made  and  used  by  the  ancient  inhabitants  prior  to 
the  introduction  of  European  wrought  'vampum  or  seawan,  and  of  beads 
of  porcelain  and  glass,  and  ornamented  pipes  of  coarse  pottery.  I  also 
examined  several  liirge  marine  shells,  much  corroded  and  decayed,  which 
had  been  brought,  most  probably,  from  the  shores  of  the  Atlantic. 

Having  made  such  excavations  as  Umited  time  and  a  single  spade  would 
permit,  we  retraced  our  way  to  Dundas,  which  we  reached  after  nightfall, 
a  little  fatigued,  but  well  rewarded  in  the  examination  of  an  object 
which  connects,  in  several  particulars,  the  antiquities  of  Canada  with  those 
of  the  United  States.  ; 


t  r:  : 


M 


1 


EKA  OF  TFIE  SETTLEMENT  OF  DETROIT,  AND  THE 
STRAITS  BETWEEN  LAKES  ERIE  AND  HURON. 

The  following  papers,  relative  lo  the  early  occupancy  of  these  straits, 
were  copied  from  the  originalii  in  the  puhlic  archives  in  Paris,  by  Gen 
Cass,  while  he  exerciser!  the  functions  of  minister  at  the  court  of  France. 
The  first  reialt's  to  an  act  of  occupancy  made  on  the  banks  of  a  tributary 
of  the  Detroit  river,  called  St.  Deny's,  probal)ly  the  river  Aux  CananU. 
The  second  coincides  with  the  period  usually  assi<!;ned  as  the  origin  of  the 
post  of  Detroit.  They  are  further  valuable,  for  the  nolico  which  is  itici- 
denlaily  taken  of  the  leading  tribes,  who  were  then  found  upon  these  straits. 

It  will  be  recollected,  in  perusing  the.se  documents,  that  La  Salle  had 
pa.ssed  these  straits  on  his  way  to  "  the  Illinois,"  in  1670,  that  is,  dfjhl 
years  before  the  act  of  possession  at  St.  Deny's,  and  twenty-two  yf&x% 
b'fore  the  establishment  of  the  post  of  Detroit.  The  upper  lakes  had 
then,  however,  been  extensively  laid  open  to  the  enterprise  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, und  of  the  adventurers  in  tne  iur  trade.  Marquette,  accom' 
panied  by  Alluez,  had  visited  the  south  shore  of  Lake  Superior  in  1668, 
and  made  a  map  of  the  region,  which  was  published  in  the  Lettrfs  Hdi' 
fiantes.  This  zealous  and  energetic  man  established  the  mission  of  St. 
Ignace  at  Michilimackinac,  about  1669  or  1670,  and  three  years  after- 
wards, entered  the  upper  Mississippi,  from  the  Wi.sconsm.  Vincennes, 
on  the  Wabash,  was  established  in  1710  *  St.  Louis,  not  till  1763.t 

Canada,  7th  June,  1687. 
A  renetcal  of  the  taking  possession  of  the  territory  vj.on  the  Straits  [Pe- 

troil]  between  Lakes  Erie  and  Iluroiiy  by  Sleur  de  la  Duranthaye 
Oliver  Morel,  I^fiucrry,  Sieur  lie  la  Duranthaye,  commandant  in  the  name 

of  the  Klnj  of  the  Territory  of  the  Otlawas,  Miamis,  PoUawatamies, 

Sioux,  and  other  tribes  under  the  orders  of  Jilonsicur,  fhe  Marquis  de 

Denonsvillc,  Governor  General  of  JVcw  France. 

This  day,  the  7th  of  June,  1687,  in  presence  of  the  Rcv'd  Father  An- 
geleran,  Head  of  the  Missions  with  the  Ottawas|  of  Michilimackinac,  the 

*  Nicollet's  Report.  t  Law's  Historical  Dis, 

I  This  is.  manifestly,  an  error.  The  writer  of  this  act  of  possessioi  opears  to 
liave  mistaken  the  )nnk  of  the  St.  Miry's.  one  of  the  tributaries  of  the  .Miami  of  the 
Lulo's.  in  the  Miami  country,  for  the  Siiilt  de  Stc-A>.uie.  at  the  outlet  of  Like  Su- 
perior. The  latter  position  was  occupied,  at  the  earliest  dales,  to  which  tradition 
reai'he?,  by  a  branch  of  the  Alijonijuins,  lo  whom  the  French  g.ive  the  name,  from 
thefillsof  the  river  at  thit  locality,  of  S:tnltenx.  They  are  better  known,  at  this  day 
under  the  name  of  Chippewas  and  Odiibwas.  „ 

^  328 


SETTLEMENT  OP  DETROIT,  ETC. 


329 


Miainis  of  Sault  Sle-Marie,  the  Illinois,  and  Green  Bay,  and  of  the 
Sioux  of  Mons.  de  la  Forest,  formerly  commandant  of  Fort  St.  Louis  on 
the  Illinois,  of  Mons.  de  Lisle,  our  Lieutenant,  and  of  Mons.  de  I3oau- 
vais,  Lieutenant  of  Fort  St.  Joseph,  on  the  Straits  [Detroit]  between 
Lakes  Huron  and  Erie.  We  declare  to  all  whom  it  may  hereafter  con- 
cern, that  we  have  come  upon  the  banks  of  the  river  St.  Dcny's,  situat 
ed  three  leagues  from  Lake  Erie,  in  the  Straits  of  the  said  Lakes  Erie 
and  Huron,  on  the  south  of  said  straits,  and  also  at  the  entrance  on  the 
north  side,  for  and  in  the  name  of  the  King,  that  we  re-take  possession 
of  the  said  posts,  established  by  Mons.  La  SuUe  for  facilitating  the  voy- 
ages he  made  or  caused  to  be  made  in  vessels  from  Niagara  to  Michili- 
mackinac,  in  the  years  •*•***  at  each  of  which  we  have  caused  to 
be  set  up  anew  a  stall",  with  the  arms  of  the  King,  in  order  to  make  the 
said  renewed  taking  possession,  and  ordered  several  cabins  to  be  erected 
r  the  accommodation  of  the  French  and  the  Indians  of  the  Shawnees 
ftp  i  '^'anis,  who  had  long  been  the  proprietors  of  the  said  territory, 
I'        M.  had  some  time  before  withdrawn  from  the  same  for  their  greater 


ac.<wc.tiage. 


The  present  act  passed  in  our  presence,  signed  by  our  hands,  and  by 
Rev.  Father  Angeleran,  of  the  society  of  Jesuits,  by  MM.  De  la  Forest, 
De  Lisle  and  De  Beauvais,  thus  in  the  original : 

Angeleran,  Jesuite. 

De  la  Duranthaye  [la  Garducr]. 

De  Beauvais,  and 

De  la  Forest. 

Compared  by  me  with  the  original  in  my  hands.  Councillor  Secretary 
of  the  King,  and  Register  in  Chief  of  the  Royal  Council  at  Quebec,  sub- 
scribed, and  each  page  paraphe. 

Collated  at  Quebec,  this  11th  September,  1712. 

[Signed],  Byon  et  VANDREtriL. 

Memoir  of  Monsieur  de  la  Mothe  Cadillac,  relative  to  the  establishment  of 

Detroit,  addressed  to  the  Minister  of  Marine,  \4th  September,  1704  : 
La  Mothe  Cadillac  renders  an  account  of  his  conduct  relative  to  the  esta- 

blishmcnt  of  Detroit,  by  questions  and  ansioers.     It  is  the  Minister  who 

questions,  and  La  Mothe  who  answers : 

Q.  Was  it  not  in  1699  that  you  proposed  to  me  an  establishment  in 
Ihe  Straits  which  separate  Lake  Erie  from  Lake  Huron  .' 

A.  Yes,  my  Lord. 

Q.  What  were  the  motives  which  induced  you  to  wish  to  fortify  r 
place  there,  and  make  an  establishment  .' 

A.  1  had  several.  The  first  was  to  make  a  slronii;  post,  which  should 
OOt  bo  subject  to  the  revolutions  of  other  posts,  by  fixing  there  a  number 


1 


if'  ■■    ' 


S?i 


« i: 


mi0»»'- 


330 


THE    CHOCTAW    INDIANS. 


of  French  and  Savages,  in  order  to  curb  the  Iroquois,  who  had  coostanU 
ly  annoyed  our  colonies  and  hindered  their  prosperity. 

Q.  At  what  time  did  you  leave  Quebec  to  go  to  Detroit  ? 

A.  On  the  8th  of  March,  1701.  I  reached  Montreal  the  12th, 
when  we  were  obliged  to  make  a  change.  •  •  •  •  I  left  La  Chine  the  5th 
of  June  with  fifty  soldiers  and  fifty  Canadians — Messrs.  De  Fonty,  Cap- 
tain, Duqueand  Chacornach,  Lieutens  .'.s.  I  was  ordered  to  pass  by  the 
Grand  River  of  the  Ottawas,  notwithstanding  my  remonstrances.  1 
arrived  at  Detroit  the  24lh  July  and  fortified  myself  there  immediately  ; 
had  the  necessary  huts  made,  and  cleared  up  the  grounds,  preparatory  to 
its  being  sowed  in  the  autumn. 

Compare  these  data,  from  the  highest  sources,  with  the  Indian  tradi- 
tion of  the  first  arrival  of  the  French,  in  the  upper  lakes,  recorded  at 
page  107,  Omeota,  No.  2. 


THE  CHOCTAW  INDIANS. 
The  Vickaburg  Sentinel  of  the  Idth  ult.,  referring  to  this  tribe  of 
Indians,  has  the  following  : — "  The  last  remnant  of  this  once  powerful 
tribe  are  now  crossing  our  ferry  on  their  way  to  their  new  homes  in  the 
far  West.  To  one  who,  like  the  writer,  has  been  familiar  to  their  bronze 
inexpressive  faces  (("om  infancy,  it  brings  associations  of  peculiar  sadness 
to  see  them  bidding  here  a  last  farewell  perhaps  to  the  old  hills  which 
gave  birth,  and  are  doubtless  equally  dear  to  him  and  them  alike.  The 
first  playmates  of  our  infancy  were  the  young  Choctaw  boys  of  the  then 
woods  of  Warren  county.  Their  language  was  once  scarcely  less  fami- 
liar to  us  than  our  mother- English.  We  know,  we  think,  the  character 
of  the  Choctaw  well.  We  knew  many  of  their  present  stalwart  braves 
in  those  days  of  early  life  when  the  Indian  and  white  alike  forget  dis- 
guise, but  in  the  unchecked  exuberance  of  youthful  feeling  show  the  real 
character  that  policy  and  habit  may  afterwards  so  much  conceal  ;  and 
we  know  that,  under  the  stolid  stoic  look  he  assumes,  there  is  burning  in 
the  Indian^s  nature  a  heart  of  fire  and  feeling,  and  an  all-observing  keen- 
ness of  apprehension,  that  marks  and  remembers  everything  that  occurs, 
and  every  insult  he  receives.  Cunni-at  a  hah  !  They  are  going  away ! 
With  a  visible  reluctance  which  nothing  has  overcome  but  the  stern 
necessity  they  feel  impelling  them,  they  have  looked  their  last  on  the 
graves  of  their  sires — the  scenes  of  their  youth — and  have  taken  up  their 
slow  toilsome  march,  with  their  household  gods  among  them,  to  their 
new  home  in  a  strange  land.  They  leave  names  to  many  of  our  rivers, 
(owns  and  counties  ;  and  so  long  as  our  State  remains,  the  ChoctawS) 
who  once  owned  most  of  her  soil,  will  be  remembered." 


A  SVNOPSIS  OF  CARTIER'S  VOYAGES  OF  DISCOVERY 
AT  NORTH  AMERICA. 


FIRST  VOYAGE. 

Forty-two  years  had  elapsed  from  the  discovery  of  America  by  Colum> 
bus,  when  Jacques  Cartier  prepared  to  share  in  the  maratinie  enterprise 
of  the  age,  by  visiting  the  coast.  Cartier  was  a  native  of  Normandy,  and 
sailed  from  the  port  of  St,  Malo,  in  France,  on  the  20th  April,  1534.  It 
will  be  recollected  that  the  conquest  of  Mexico  had  been  completed  13 
years  previous.  Cartier  had  two  small  vessels  of  60  tons  burden  and  61 
men  each.  The  crews  took  an  oath,  before  sailing,  "  to  behave  them- 
selves truly  and  faithfully  in  the  service  of  the  most  christian  king,"  Fran- 
cis I.  After  an  unusually  prosperous  voyage  of  20  days,  he  made  cape 
"Buona  Vista"  in  Newfoundland,  which  he  states  to  be  in  north  latitude, 
48"  30'.  Here  meeting  with  ice,  he  made  the  haven  of  St.  Catherine's, 
where  he  was  detained  ten  days.  This  coast  had  now  been  known  since 
the  voyage  of  Cabot,  in  1497,  and  had  been  frequently  resorted  to,  by 
fishing  vessels.  Jean  Denis,  a  native  of  Rouen,  one  of  these  fishermen, 
is  said  to  have  published  the  first  chart  of  it,  in  1506.  Two  years  after 
wards,  Thomas  Aubert,  brought  the  first  natives  from  Newfoundland  to 
Paris,  and  tliis  is  the  era,  1508,  commonly  assigned  as  the  discovery  of 
Canada.  The  St.  Lawrence  remained,  however,  undiscovered,  nor  docs 
it  appear  that  any  thing  was  known,  beyond  a  general  and  vague  know- 
ledge of  the  coast,  and  its  islands.  The  idea  was  yet  entertained,  indeed, 
it  will  be  seen  by  subsequent  facts,  that  America  was  an  island,  and  that  a 
passage  to  the  Asiatic  continent,  existed  in  these  latitudes. 

On  the  2lst  May,  Cartier  continued  his  voyage,  sailing  "  north  and  by 
east"  from  cape  Buona  Vista,  and  reached  the  Isle  of  Birds,  so  called 
from  the  unusual  abundance  of  sea  fowl  found  there,  of  the  young  of 
which  the  men  filled  two  boats,  "  so  that"  in  the  quaint  language  of  the 
journal,  "  besides  them  which  we  did  eat  fresh,  every  ship  did  powder 
and  sjilt  five  or  six  barrels."  He  also  observed  the  godwit,  and  a  larger 
and  vicious  bird,  which  they  named  margaulx.  While  at  this  island, 
they  descried  a  polar  bear,  which,  in  their  presence  leapt  into  the  sea,  and 

331 


•i.  I'M 


kM\ 


pn^- 


332 


CARTIER's    voyages   of   DtSCOVRRY. 


thus  escaped.  On  their  subsequent  passage  to  the  main  land,  thcT 
ngaiu  encountered,  as  they  supposed,  the  same  anim.il  swimming  towards 
l.ttid.  'J'hey  manned  their  boats,  and  "  by  main  strength  overlook  her, 
whose  flesh  was  as  good  to  be  oaten,  as  the  flt'sh  of  a  calf  two  v^ara 
old."  This  bear  is  described  to  be,  "as  large  as  a  cow,  and  as  white  as  a 
swan." 

On  the  27th  he  reached  the  harbour  of  "  Carpimt"  in  the  bay  "  Lcs 
Chustiiux,"  latitude  51^,  where  he  was  constrained  to  lay  by,  on  account 
of  the  accumulation  of  ice,  till  the  9th  of  June.  The  narrator  of  the  voy- 
age takes  this  occasion  to  describe  certain  paits  of  the  coast  and  waters  of 
Newfoundliiihl,  the  island  of  St.  Catherine,  Blanc  Sablon,  Brest,  the  Isle 
of  Birds,  and  a  numerous  group  of  Islands  called  the  Ishts.  But 
these  memoranda  are  not  connected  with  any  observations  or  discoveries 
of  importance.  Speaking  of  Bird  and  Brest  Islands,  he  says,  they  aiTord 
"great  store  of  god  wits,  and  crows,  with  red  beaks  and  red  feet,"  who 
"  make  their  nests  in  holes  underground,  even  as  conies."  Near  this  lo- 
calily  "there  is  great  fishing." 

On  the  10th  June,  he  entered  a  port  in  the  newly  named  island  of 
Brest,  to  procure  wood  and  water.  Meantime,  boats  were  dispatched  to 
explore  among  the  islands,  which  were  found  so  numerous  "  that  it  was  not 
possible  they  might  be  told,  for  they  continued  about  10  leagues  beyond 
the  said  port."  The  explorers  slept  on  an  island.  The  next  day  they 
continued  their  discoveries  along  the  coast,  and  having  passed  the  islands, 
found  a  haven,  which  they  named  St.  Anthony:  one  or  two  leagues  be- 
yond, they  found  a  small  river  named  St.  Servansport,  and  here  set  up  a 
cross.  About  three  leagues  further,  they  discovered  another  river,  of 
larger  size,  in  which  they  found  salmon,  and  bestowed  upon  it  the  name 
of  St.  Jacques. 

While  in  the  latter  position,  they  descried  a  ship  from  Rochelle,  on  a 
fishing  voyage,  and  rowing  out  in  their  boats,  directed  it  to  a  port  near  at 
hand,  in  what  is  called  " Jaques  Cartier's  Sound,"  "which,"  adds  the  nar- 
rator, "  I  take  to  be  one  of  the  best,  in  all  the  world."  The  face  of  the 
country  they  examined,  is,  however,  of  the  most  sterile  and  forbiddingchar- 
Bcter,  being  little  besides  "  stones  and  wild  crags,  and  a  place  fit  for  wild 
beasts,  for  in  all  the  North  Island,"  he  continues,"  I  did  not  see  a  cart  load 
of  good  earth,  yet  went  I  on  shore,  in  many  places,  and  in  the  Island 
of  White  Sand,  (Blanc  Sablon,)  there  is  nothing  else  but  moss  and  small 
thorns,  scattered  here  and  there,  withered  and  dry.  To  be  short,  I  be- 
lieve that  this  was  the  land  that  God  allotted  to  Cain." 

Immediately  following  this,  we  have  the  first  description  of  the  natives. 
The  men  are  described  as  being  "of  an  inditferent  good  stature  and  big- 
ness, but  wild  and  unruly.  They  wear  their  hair  tied  on  the  top,  like  a 
wreath  of  hay,  and  put  a  wooden  pin  within  it,  or  any  other  such  thing,  in- 
•tead  of  a  nail,  and  withthem,  they  bind  certain  birds  feathers.     They  are 


cartibr's  voyages  of  discovert. 


333 


clothed  with  beast  skins,  as  well  the  men  as  women,  but  that  the  women  go 
Bomewhut  straiter  and  closer  in  their  garments,  than  the  men  do,  with  their 
waists  girded.  They  paint  themselves  with  certain  roan  colours;  their 
bouts  are  made  of  the  bark  of  birch  trees,  with  the  which  they  fish,  and  take 
great  store  of  seals.  And  as  far  as  we  could  understand,  since  our  coming 
thither,  ihiit  is  not  their  •labitr  "  )Ut  they  come  from  the  main  land,  out  of 
hotter*  countries  to  ca  the  sa  als,  and  other  necessi  t  <  t  their  liv- 
ing." 

From  this  exploratory  trip,  the  boats  returned  to  their  newly  named  har- 
bour of  Brest,  on  the  13th.  On  the  14th,  being  the  Sabbath,  service  was 
read,  and  the  next  day  Cartier  continued  his  voyage,  steermg  southerly, 
along  the  coast,  which  still  wore  a  most  barren  and  cheerless  aspect. 
Much  of  this  part  of  the  narrative  is  taken  up  with  distances  and  sound- 
ings, and  the  naming  of  capes  and  islands  of  very  little  interest  at  the 
present  day.  They  saw  a  few  huts  'ipon  the  clifls  on  the  18th,  and 
named  this  part  of  the  coast  "  Les  Granges,"  but  did  not  stop  to  form  any 
acquaintance  with  their  tenants.  Cape  Royal  was  reached  and  named 
the  day  prior,  and  is  said  to  be  the  "greatest  fishery  of  cods  there  possibly 
may  be,  for  in  less  than  an  hour  we  took  a  hundred  of  them."  On  the 
34th  they  discovered  the  island  of  St.  John.  They  saw  myriads  of  birds 
upon  the  irroup  of  islands  named  "  Margaulx,"  five  leagues  westward 
of  vvhicn  they  discovered  a  large,  fertile,  and  well-timbered  island,  to 
which  the  name  of  "  Brion"  was  given.  The  contrast  presented  by  the 
soil  and  productions  of  this  island,  compared  with  the  bleak  and  waste 
shores  they  had  before  encountered,  excited  their  warm  admiration  ;  and 
with  the  aid  of  this  excitement,  they  here  saw  "  wild  corn,"  peas,  goose- 
berries, strawberries,  damask  roses,  and  parsley,  "  with  other  sweet  and 
pleasant  herbs."     They  here  also  saw  the  walrus,  bear,  and  wolf. 

Very  little  is  to  be  gleaned  from  the  subsequent  parts  of  the  voyage, 
until  they  reached  the  gulf  of  St.  Lawrence.  Mists,  head  winds,  barren 
rocks,  sindy  shores,  storms  and  sunshine,  alternately  make  up  the  land- 
scape presented  to  view.  Much  caution  was  evinced  in  standing  oflf 
and  Oil  an  iron  bound  coast,  and  the  boats  were  often  employed  in  ex- 
ploring along  the  main  land.  While  thus  employed  near  a  shallow 
stream,  called  the  "  River  of  Boats,"  they  saw  natives  crossing  the  stream 
in  thoif  canoes,  but  the  wind  coming  to  blow  on  shore,  they  were  com- 
pelled to  retire  to  their  vessels,  without  opening  any  communication  with 
them.  On  the  following  day,  while  the  boats  were  traversing  the  coast, 
they  saw  a  native  running  along  shore  after  them,  who  made  signs  as  they 
supposed,  directing  them  to  return  towards  the  cape  they  had  left.  Bui 
as  soon  as  the  boat  turned  he  fleJ.     They  landed,  however,  and  putting  a 

•I  underscore  the  word  "  hotter,"  to  denote  ll>e  prevalent  theory  They  were  search- 
\ag  for  China  or  the  East  India. 


334 


cartier's  voyages  of  discovery. 


Kiiifo  and  a  woollen  girdle  on  a  stuff,  as  a  good-will  offering,  returned  to 
their  vessels. 

The  character  of  this  part  of  the  New'ounolnnd  coast,  impressed  them  as 
being  greatly  superior  to  the  portions  which  ihey  had  previously  seen, 
both  in  soil  and  temperature.  In  addition  to  the  productions  found  at 
Urion's  Island,  they  noticed  cedars,  pines,  white  elm,  ash,  willow,  and  what 
nre  denominated  " ewetrees."  Among  the  feathered  tribes  they  mention 
till!  "thrush  and  stock-dove."  By  the  latter  term  the  passenger  pigeon  is 
doubtless  meant.  The  "  wild  corn"  hero  again  mentioned,  is  said  to  be 
"  like  unto  rye,"  from  which  it  may  be  inferred  that  it  was  the  zizanin, 
although  the  circumstance  of  its  being  an  equatic  plant  is  not  mentioned. 

In  running  along  the  coast  Cartier  appears  to  have  been  engrossed  with 
the  idea,  so  prevalent  among  the  mariners  of  that  era,  of  finding  a  pas- 
sage to  India,  nnd  it  was  probably  on  this  account  that  he  made  such  a 
scrupulous  examination  of  every  inlet  and  bay,  and  the  productions  of  the 
shores.  Wherever  the  latter  oflTered  anything  favourable,  there  was  a 
strong  disposition  to  admiration,  and  to  make  appearances  correspond  with 
the  theory.  It  must  be  recollected  that  Hudson,  seventy-five  years  later, 
in  sailing  up  the  North  River,  had  similar  notions.  Hence  the  application 
of  several  improper  terms  to  thr  ogetabic  and  animal  productions  of  the 
latitudes,  and  the  constant  eX]  .lion  of  beholding  trees  bending  with 
fruits  and  spices,  "  goodly  trees"  and  "very  sweet  and  pleasant  herbs." 
That  the  barren  and  frigid  shores  of  Labrador,  and  the  northern  parts  of 
Newfoundland,  should  have  been  characterised  as  a  region  subject  to  the 
divine  curse,  is  not  calculated  to  excite  so  much  surprise,  as  the  disposition 
with  every  considerable  change  of  soil  and  verdure,  to  convert  it  into  a 
land  of  oriental  fruitfulness.  It  docs  not  appear  to  have  been  sufficiently 
borne  in  mind,  that  the  increased  verdure  and  temperature,  were,  in  a  great 
measure,  owing  to  the  advancing  state  of  the  season.  He  came  on  this 
coast  on  the  10th  of  May,  and  it  was  now  July.  It  is  now  very  well 
known  that  the  summers  in  high  northern  latitudes,  although  short,  are  at- 
tended with  a  high  degree  of  heat. 

On  the  3d  of  July  Cartier  entered  the  gulf  to  which  the  name  of  Bt 
Lawrence  has  since  been  applied,  the  centre  of  which  he  states  to  be  in 
latitude  47°  30'.  On  the  4th  he  proceeded  up  the  bay  to  a  creek  called 
St.  Martin,  near  bay  De  Chaleur,  where  he  was  detained  by  stress  of  wea- 
ther eight  days.  While  thus  detained,  one  of  the  ship's  boats  was  sent 
a-head  to  exj)lore.  They  went  7  or  8  leagues  to  a  cape  of  the  bay,  where 
they  descried  two  parties  of  Indians,  "  in  about  40  or  50  canoes,"  crossing 
the  channel.  One  of  the  parties  landed  and  beckoned  them  to  follow 
their  example,  "making  a  great  noise"  and  showing  "certain  skins  upon 
pieces  of  wood" — i.  e.  fresh  stretched  skins.  Fearing  their  numbers,  the 
seamen  kept  aloof  The  Indians  prepared  to  follow  them,  in  two  canoes, 
in  which  movement  they  were  joined  by  five  canoes  of  the  other  party, 


cartier's  voyages  of  discovery. 


335 


•'  who  were  cominp  from  the  sea  side."  They  approached  in  a  friendly 
manner,  "dancing  and  muking  many  signs  of  joy, saying  in  their  tongue 
Nape  londumen  assuath."*  The  seamen,  however,  suspected  their  in- 
tentions, and  finding  it  impossible  to  elude  them  by  flight,  two  shots  were 
discharged  among  them,  by  which  they  were  so  terrified,  that  they  fled 
precipitately  ashore,  "  making  a  great  noise."  After  pausing  awhile,  tho 
"wild  men"  however,  re-embarked,  and  renewed  the  pyjrsuit,  but  after 
coming  alongside,  they  were  frightened  back  by  the  strokes  of  twr 
lances,  which  so  disconcerted  them  that  they  fled  in  haste,  and  made  no 
further  attempt  to  follow. 

This  appears  to  have  been  the  first  rencontre  of  the  ship's  crew  with 
the  natives.  On  the  following  day,  an  interview  was  brought  on,  by  the 
approach  of  said  "wild  men"  in  nine  canoes,  which  is  thus  described. 
"  We  being  advertised  of  their  coming,  went  to  the  point  where  they  were 
with  our  boats;  but  so  soon  as  they  saw  us  they  began  to  flee,  muking 
signs  that  they  came  to  traflic  with  us,  showing  us  such  skins  as  they 
clothed  themselves  withal,  which  are  of  small  value.  We  likewise  made 
signs  unto  them,  that  we  wished  them  no  evil,  and  in  sign  thereof,  two  of 
our  men  ventured  to  go  on  land  to  them,  and  carry  them  knives,  with 
other  iron  wares,  and  a  red  hat  to  give  unto  their  captain.  Which,  when 
ihey  saw,  they  also  came  on  land,  and  brought  some  of  their  skins,  and  so 
oegan  to  deal  with  us,  seeming  to  be  very  glad  to  have  our  iron  wares  and 
other  things,  dancing,  with  many  other  ceremonies,  as  with  their  hands  to 
cast  sea  water  on  their  heads.  They  gave  us  whatever  they  had,  not 
keeping  any  thing,  so  that  they  were  constrained  to  go  back  again  nuked, 
and  made  us  signs,  that  the  next  day,  they  would  come  again  and  bring 
more  skins  with  them." 

Observing  a  spacious  bay  extending  beyond  the  cape,  where  this  inter- 
course had  been  opened,  and  the  wind  proving  adverse  to  the  vessels  quit- 
ting their  harbour,  Cartier  despatched  his  boats  to  examine  it,  under  an  ex- 
pectation that  it  might  afford  the  desired  passage — for  it  is  at  all  times  to 
be  observed  that  he  was  diligently  seeking  the  long  sought  passage  to  the 
Indies,  While  engaged  in  this  examination,  his  men  discovered  "the 
smokes  and  fires"  of  "  wild  men"  (the  term  constantly  used  in  the  narrative 
to  designate  the  natives.)  These  smokes  were  upon  a  small  lake,  communi- 
cating with  the  bay.  An  amiable  interview  took  place,  the  natives  presenting 
cooked  seal,  and  the  French  making  a  suitable  return  "  in  hatchets,  kniv  js 
and  beads."  Afterthe.se  preliminaries,  which  were  conducted  with  a  good 
deal  of  caution,  by  deputies  from  both  sides,  the  body  of  the  men  ap- 
proached in  their  canoes,  for  the  purpose  of  trafficking,  leaving  most  of 

*  In  Mr.  Gallatin's  comparative  vocnbuiary,  "  Napow"  means  man,  in  the  Shesh- 
atapoosh  or  Labrador.  It  is  tiiereforp  fair  to  conclude  tliat  these  were  a  party  of  Sheslu 
atapoosh  Indians,  whose  language  proves  them  to  be  of  the  kindred  of  the  great  Algou* 
quin  <°umily. 


.;l 


336 


CARTIER's    t^OYAGES  OF   DISCOVERY. 


their  familirs  behind.  About  300  men  women  and  children  were  esth 
mated  to  have  been  seen  at  this  place.  They  evinced  their  friendship  by 
singing  and  dancing,  and  \>y  rubbing  their  hands  upon  the  arms  of  their 
European  visitors,  then  lifting  them  up  towards  the  heavens.  An  opinion 
is  expressed  that  these  people,  (who  were  in  ilio  position  assigned  to  the 
Micmacs  in  1600  in  Mr.  Gallatin's  ethnological  map,)  might  very  easily 
be  converted  to  Christianity.  '•  They  go,"  says  the  narrator,  "  from  place 
to  place.  They  live  only  by  fishing.  They  have  an  ordinary  time  to  fish 
for  their  provisions.  The  country  is  hatkr  than  the  country  of  Spain,  and 
the  fairest  that  can  possibly  bo  found,  altogether  smooth  and  level."'  To 
the  productions  before  noticed,  as  existing  on  Brion's  island  &c.,  and  which 
were  likewise  found  here,  he  adds,  "  white  and  red  roses,  with  many  other 
flowers  of  very  sweet  and  pleasant  smell."  "  There  be  also,"  says  the 
journalist,  "many  goodly  meat!o\vs,  full  of  grass,  and  lakes,  wherein 
plenty  of  salmon  be."  The  natives  called  a  hatchet  cocM,  and  a  knife 
bacon*  It  was  now  near  the  middle  of  July,  and  the  degree  of  heat  ex- 
perienced on  the  excursion  induced  Cartier  to  name  the  inlet,  Buie  da 
Chaleur — a  name  it  still  retains. 

On  the  12th  of  July  Cartier  left  his  moorings  at  St.  Martin's  creek,  and 
proceeded  up  the  gulf,  but  encountering  bad  weather  he  was  forced  into  a 
bay,  which  appears  to  have  been  Gaspe,  where  one  of  the  vessels  lost  her 
anchor.  'I'hey  were  forced  to  take  shelter  in  a  river  of  that  bay,  and 
there  detained  thirteen  days.  In  the  mean  while  they  opened  an  inter- 
course with  the  natives,  who  were  found  in  great  numbers  engaged  in 
fishing  for  makerel.  Forty  canoes,  and  200  mtn  women  and  children 
were  estimated  to  have  been  seen,  duripnr  their  detention.  Presents  of 
"knives,  combs,  beads  of  glass,  and  other  trifles  of  small  value,"  were 
made  to  them,  for  which  they  expressed  great  thankfulness,  lifting  up  their 
hands,  and  dancing  and  singing. 

These  Gaspe  Indians  are  represented  as  difTering,  both  in  nature  and 
.anguage,  from  those  before  mentioned  They  presented  a  picture  of 
object  poverty,  were  partially  clothed  in  "old  skins,"  and  lived  without  the 
use  of  tents.  They  may,  says  the  journalist,  "very  well  and  truly  be 
called  tr'dd,  because  there  is  no  poorer  people  in  the  world,  for  I  think 
all  they  had  together,  besides  their  boats  and  nets,  was  not  worth  five 
Bous."  'i'hey  shaved  their  heads,  except  a  tuft  at  the  crown  ;  sheltered 
Ihemselves  at  night  under  their  canoes  on  the  bare  ground,  and  ate  their 
provisions  very  partially  cooked.  They  were  wholly  without  the  use  of 
salt,  and  "ate  nothing  that  had  any  taste  of  salt."  On  Cartier's  first  land- 
ing among  them,  the  men  expressed  their  joy,  as  those  at  bay  Chaleur  had 
done,  by  singing  and  dancing.     But  they  had  caused  all  their  women, 


*  Koshee  and  Balikon.  These  are  not  the  terms  for  a  hatchet  and  a  knife  in  Uw  MiO> 
mac,  nor  in  tlie  old  Algonquin,  nor  in  the  Wyandot. 


CARTIER^S    VOYACEfl   OF   DISCOVERY. 


IT 


cxrept  2  or  3,  to  flee  into  the  woods  By  giving  n  comb  and  a  tin  bell  to 
ench  of  the  wompn  who  hud  ventured  to  remain,  the  avaficeof  the  men  wa« 
exi-ited,  and  they  quickly  caused  their  women,  to  the  number  of  about  20, 
to  sully  from  tiie  woods,  to  each  of  whom  the  same  present  was  mad«. 
They  caressed  Cartier  by  touching  and  rubbing  him  with  their  hands; 
•ihey  uleid  sung  and  danced.  Tlieir  nets  were  made  of  a  species  of  indi- 
genous hemp;  they  possessed  also,  a  kind  of  "millet"  called  ''  kapaigc," 
beans  called  "  S.ihu,"  and  nuts  called  '■Cihehya."  If  any  thing  was 
txhibited,  which  they  did  not  know,  or  understand,  they  shook  their 
heads  s.iying  "Nohda."  It  is  added  that  they  never  come  to  the  sea,  ex- 
cept in  fishing  lime,  which,  we  may  remark,  was  probably  the  cause  of 
'heir  having  no  lodges,  or  much  other  prop'rly  about  them.  They  would 
naturally  wiah  to  disencumber  their  canoes  as  much  as  possible,  in  these 
Fummer  excursions,  that  they  might  freight  them  back  with  dried  fish. 
The  language  spoken  by  these  Gaspe  Indians  is  manifestly  of  the  Iroquois 
type.  "Cahehya,"  is,  with  a  slight  difference,  the  term  for  fruit,  in  the 
Oneida. 

On  the  24th  July,  Cartier  set  np  a  crocv  thirty  feet  high,  inscii1)ed, 
"  Vive  U  Roy  de  Francei'^  The  natives  who  were  present  at  this  cere- 
mony, seem,  on  a  little  reflection,  to  have  conceived  the  true  intent  of  it, 
and  their  chief  complained  of  it,  in  a  "  long  oration,"  giving  them  to  undcr- 
Rtand  "that  the  country  v.as  his,  and  that  we  should  not  set  up  any  cross, 
without  his  leave."  Having  quieted  the  old  chief's  fears,  and  made  use 
of  a  little  duplicity,  to  get  him  to  come  alongside,  they  seized  two  of  the  nti- 
tives  for  the  purpose  of  taking  them  to  France,  and  on  the  next  day  set  sail, 
up  the  gulf.  A  fter  making  some  further  examinations  of  the  gulf,  and  being 
foiled  in  an  attempt  to  enter  the  mouth  of  a  river,  Cartier  turned  his  thoughts 
on  a  return.  He  was  alarmed  by  the  furious  tides  setting  out  of  the  St. 
Lawrence ;  the  weather  was  becommg  tempestuous,  and  under  these  cir- 
cumstances he  assembled  his  captains  and  principal  men,  "to  put  the  ques- 
tion as  to  the  expediency  of  continuing  the  voyage."  They  advised  him 
to  this  effeti.  Tnat.  considering  that  easterly  winds  began  to  prevail — "  that 
there  was  nothing  to  be  gotten" — that,  the  impetuosity  of  the  tides  was  such 
"  That  they  did  but  fall,"  and  that  storms  and  tempests  began  to  reign — and 
moreover,  that  they  must  cither  promptly  return  home,  or  else  remain  where 
they  were  till  spring,  it  was  expedient  to  return.  With  this  counsel  he 
complied.  No  time  was  lost  in  retracing  their  outward  track,  along  tho 
Newfoundland  coast.  They  reached  the  port  of  "  VVhite  Sands,"  on  the 
9th  of  August.  On  the  I5th,  being  "the  feast  of  the  Assumption  of  Our 
Lady,"  after  service,  Cartier  took'  his  departure  from  the  coast.  He  en- 
countered a  heavy  storm,  of  three  days  continuance,  "about  the  middle  of 
the  sea,"  and  reached  the  port  of  St.  Malo,  on  the  5th  of  September,  after  an 
Bbsen<'e  of  four  months  and  sixteen  days. 
This  comprises  the  substance  of  the  first  voyage  of  discovery,  of  which 

22 


338 


CARTIKU'h    VOYAOKS   ok    DIACOVKIIV. 


WO  hnve  knowleilpo,  ever  mado  within  the  waters  of  the  St.  Lnwrencti 
The  NfwrounJIand  and  Nnva  Scotia  coasts,  toircther  with  the  shores  of 
the  Noith  y\tlatitic  generally,  had  hcen  discovered  by  Cabot,  37  years  befora 
The  batiiis  of  Newloiindlaiid  had  been  resorted  to,  as  is  known  pretty  freely 
for  the  purpose  of  fisliiiip,  for  20  years  of  this  period,  and  the  natives  had 
been  at  leabt,  in  one  instance,  taken  to  Knrope.  JJut  the  existence  of  the 
St.  Lawrence  appears  not  to  have  been  known,  Carlier,  is,  therefore,  the 
true  discoverer  of  Catiada,  although  he  was  not  its  founder.  The  latter  hon- 
our was  reserved  for  another.  In  the  two  succeeding  voyages  made  by  Car- 
tier,  of  which  it  is  proposed  to  make  a  synopsis,  his  title  as  a  discoverer,  is 
still  more  luUy  cstublished. 


SECOND  VOYAGE. 

A.  D  ISSf),  May,  10th,  Carticr  left  St.  Malo,  on  his  second  voyage  of 
discovery,  "  to  the  islands  of  Canada,  Hochelaga,  and  Snguenay,"  with 
three  ships — the  "Hermina"  of  100  to  120  tons — the  "little  Hermina" 
of  GO  tons,  and  the  "  Hermerillon"  of  40  tons,  commanded  by  separate 
masters,  acting  under  his  orders  as  "  General."  He  was  accompanied  by 
several  gentlemen  and  adventurers,  among  whom  the  narrator  of  the 
voyage  mentions,  "Master  Claudius  de  Pont  13rland,  son  to  the  Lord  of 
Montceuell,  and  cup-bearer  to  the  Dauphin  of  France  ;  Charles  of  Pomc- 
rais,  and  John  Powlet."  He  suffered  a  severe  gale  on  the  outward 
passage,  in  which  the  ships  parted  company.  Caitier  reached  the  const 
of  Newfoundland  on  the  7th  July,  and  was  not  rejoined  by  the  other  ves- 
sels till  the  '2Gth,  on  which  day  the  missing  vessels  entered  "  the  port  of 
While  Sands"  in  the  bay  dcs  Chastcaux,  the  place  previously  desiynated 
for  their  general  rendezvous. 

On  the  27th  he  continued  his  voyage  along  the  coast,  keepmg  in 
sight  of  land,  and  consequently  running  great  risks,  from  the  numerous 
shoals  he  encountered  in  seeking  out  anchorages.  Many  of  the  islands 
and  headlands  named  in  the  previous  voyage,  were  observed,  nnd  names 
were  bestowed  upon  others,  which  had  before  escaped  notice.  Soundings 
and  courses  and  distances,  are  detailed  with  the  tedious  proli.vity,  and  pro- 
bably, with  the  uncertainty  of  the  era.  Nothing  of  importance  occurred 
until  the  8th  of  August,  when  Cartier  entered  the  gulf,  where  he  had  pre- 
viously encountered  such  storms,  nnd  which  he  now  named  St.  Law- 
rence. From  thence  on  the  12th,  he  pursued  his  voyage  westward 
"about  25  leagues"  to  a  cape  named  "Assumption,"  which  appears  (o 
have  been  part  of  the  Nova  Scotia  coust.  It  is  quite  evident  that  the  idea 
of  a  continuous  continent  was  not  entertained  by  Carlier  at  this  period, 
although  the  Cabots  had  discovered  and  run  down  the  coast  nearly  40 
years  before  (1497.)     He  constantly  speaks  of  his  discoveries  as  "islands" 


cautier's  voyages  of  discovi:rt. 


339 


n\vrene« 

iliorcs  of 
rs  before. 
;tty  fii'fly 
lives  hiid 
u-c  of  the 
ri'forc,  ihe 
liiiu;r  lion- 
ae  by  Cur- 
SCO  vert' r,  18 


1  voyage  of 


?r\ay, 


with 


J  Herniina 
by  separate 
Dmpanieil  by 
rrator  of  thn 
the  Lord  of 
les  of  Pome- 
the  outward 
led  the  coast 
he  other  vcs- 
ihc  port  of 
ly  desiynated 


and  the  great  object  of  anxiety  sccma  to  have  been,  to  find  the  long 
sought  '^  piissigc'  so  ofteti  mentioned  in  his  journals. 

'I'he  two  natives  whom  he  hud  seized  on  the  previous  voyage,  now  told 
him,  that  capo  Assumption  was  a  part  of  the  ''southern  coast,"  or  main, 
— that  there  was  an  isflund  north  of  the  passage  to  *'  Honj^niedo"  where 
they  had  been  taken  the  year  before,  and  that  "two  days  journey  from 
the  said  cape,  ami  island,  beiran  the  kiiifjdom  of  Sagucnuy." 

In  conae(|uencc  of  this  intormatioti,  and  a  wish  to  revi.^it  -'the  land  he 
had  before  espied,"  Caiticr  turned  his  course  towards  the  r.irth,  and  re- 
entering the  (lulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  came  to  the  entrance  of  the  rrver, 
which  is  slated  to  be  "about  thirty  leagues"  across.  Here,  the  tun  na- 
tives told  him,  was  the  commenceincnt  of  "  Saguenay," — that  it  was  a- 
inliabiied  country,  and  produced  "  red  copper."  They  further  informed 
him,  that  this  was  the  motith  of  the  "  great  river  of  Hochelaga,  and  ready 
way  to  Canada," — that  it  narrowed  in  the  ascent  towards  Canada,  the 
waters  becoming  fresh;  that  its  sources  were  so  remote  that  theyh.i 
never  heard  of  any  man  who  had  visited  them,  and  that  boats  would  be 
required  to  complete  tht;  ascent. 

This  information  appears  to  have  operated  as  a  disappointment  on  Car- 
tier,  and  he  determined  to  explore  northward  from  the  gulf,  "  because  he 
would  Ktiow"  to  use  the  quaint  language  of  the  narrator,  "  if  between  the 
lands  towards  the  north  any  passage  might  be  discovered."  No  sui  h 
passage  could  however  be  foutid,  and  after  devoting  ten  or  twelve  days  to 
re-examinalioiis  of  points  and  islands  before  but  imperfectly  discovered,  or 
to  the  discovery  of  otheis,  he  returned  to  the  river  St.  Lawrence,  which 
he  began  to  ascend  :  and  on  the  1st  Sept.  he  came  to  the  entrance  of  the 
Sa<ru(!nay  river,  which  is  described  as  a  bold  and  deep  stream,  entering 
the  St.  Lawrence,  between  bare,  precipitous  rocks,  cro'-ned  with  trees. 
Here  they  encountered  four  canoes  of  Indians,  who  evir..-  J  iicir  charac- 
teristic caution  and  shyness.  On  being  hailed,  however,  by  the  two  cap- 
tive natives,  who  disclosed  to  them,  their  names,  they  came  along  side. 
But  the  journal  records  no  further  particulars  of  [\\\.-  interview.  They 
proceeded  up  the  river  ne.xt  day.  The  tides  are  noticed  as  being  "  very 
swift  and  dangerous,"  and  tht:  "current"  is  described  as  equalling  that  at 
Bordeau.v.  Many  tortoises  were  seen  at  the  "Isle  of  Condrcs,"  and  a 
apecics  offish,  which  are  described  c;' equalling  a  porpoise  in  size,  whh  a 
head  resembling  a  greyhound's,  and  of  unspotted  whiteness.  It  may  be 
vague  to  offer  a  conjecture  from  such  a  description  as  to  the  species  of 
lish  intended,  but  as  the  natives  reported  them  to  be  "  very  savoury  and 
good  to  bo  eaten,"  it  may  be  inferred,  that  the  sturgeon  was  meant. 
Many  of  the  descriptions  of  the  animal  productions  of  America,  given  by 
Carticr,  appear  to  be  drawn  up,  rather  with  a  view  to  excite  wonder,  iu 
an  age  when  wonders  were  both  industriously  sought,  and  readily  credited, 
than  to  convey  any  accurate  idea  of  their  true  characters  and  properties. 


m 


340 


CAUTIERS    VOYAGES   OF   DISCOVERY. 


On  the  7th  of  Sept.  they  reached  the  island  now  called  Orleans,  wliore, 
it  is  suiJ  "the  country  of  Cunada  begntneth."  "J'his  island  is  stuted  to  b« 
ten  leagues  long,  and  five  broad,  being  inhabited  by  natives  who  lived  ex- 
clusively by  fishing.  Having  anchored  his  vessels  in  the  channel,  he 
made  u  foiinul  landing  in  his  boats,  taking  the  two  captives,  Doniaigaia, 
and  Taignoagny,  as  interpreters.  The  natives  at  first  fled,  but  hearing 
.  themselves  addressed  in  their  own  tongue,  and  finding  the  captives  to  be 
their  own  countrymen,  friendly  intercourse  at  once  ensued.  The  natives 
evinced  their  joy  by  dancing,  and  "showing  many  sorts  of  ceremonies." 
They  presented  Cartier,  "eels  and  other  sorts  of  fishes,  with  two  or  three 
burdens  of  great  millet,  wherewith  they  make  their  bread,  and  many 
great  mush  mellons."  This  "  great  millet"  appears  to  have  been  zea 
mais,  which  is  here  for  the  first  time  noticed,  amongst  the  northern  In- 
dians. The  report  of  the  arrival  of  their  lost  countrymen  D.  and  T. 
seemed  to  have  put  all  the  surrounding  villages  in  commotion,  and  Car* 
lier  found  himself  thronged  with  visitors,  to  whom  he  gave  presents, 
trifling  in  themselves,  but  of  much  value  in  the  eyes  of  the  Indians.  Tho 
utmost  harmony  and  good  feeling  appear  to  have  prevailed. 

On  the  following  day  Donnacona,  who  is  courteously  styled  the  Ijord  of 
Agouhannn,  visited  the  ships,  with  12  boats,  or  canoes — ten  of  which  how- 
ever, he  directed  to  stay  at  a  distance,  and  with  the  other  two  and  IG  men 
approached  the  vessels.  A  friendly  conference  ensued.  The  chief,  when 
he  drew  near  the  headmost  vessel  began  "to  frame  a  long  oration, 
moving  all  his  body  and  members  after  a  strange  fashion."  When  he 
reached  Carlicr's  ship,  the  captives  enteral  into  free  discourse  with  him, 
imparting  the  observations  they  had  made  in  France,  and  the  kind  treat- 
ment they  had  experienced.  At  this  recital  Donnacona  was  so  much 
pleased,  that  he  desired  Cartier  to  reach  him  his  arm,  that  he  might 
kiss  it.  He  not  only  kissed  it,  but  "  laid  it  about  his  neck,  for  so  they  use 
to  do,  when  they  will  make  much  of  one."  Cartier  then  entered  into  the 
chief's  I'oat,  "causing  bread  and  wine  to  be  brought,"  and  after  eating 
and  drinking  with  him  and  his  followers,  the  interview  terminated  in 
mutual  satisfaction. 

The  advanced  stale  of  the  season,  and  the  determination  to  visit  Hoche- 
laga  (now  Montreal)  before  the  ice  formed,  admonished  Cartier  to  look 
for  a  harbour,  which  would  aflbrd  a  safe  anchorage  for  his  largest  ves- 
sels during  the  winter.  He  selected  "  a  little  river  and  haven,"  opposite 
the  head  of  the  island,  to  which  he  gave  the  name  of  "  Santa  Croix," 
being  in  the  vicinity  of  Donnucona's  village.  No  time  was  lost  in  bring- 
ing up  and  mooring  the  vessels,  and  driving  piles  into  the  harbour  for 
their  better  security.  While  engaged  in  this  work,  further  acquaintance 
was  made  with  the  natives,  and  their  opinion  of  Carticr's  visit,  began  to 
manifest  itself,  by  which  it  appeared,  that  the  friendship  established  with 
bim  w-iA  tather  apparent,  than  leaL    About  this  time  Taignoagny  aiul 


-^^ 


cartier's  vovages  op  discovery. 


m, 


iaU8,  whore, 
8tuted  to  be 
ho  lived  ex- 
chuniiel,  he 
Domaigaia, 
but  hearing 
aplives  to  be 
The  natives 
ceremonies.' 
two  or  three 
1,  and  many 
live  been  zea 
novthern  In- 
n  D.  and  T. 
ion,  and  Car* 
ave  presents, 
ndians.     The 

ed  the  I^rd  of 
of  whith  how- 
,oand  IG  men 
he  chief,  when 
long   oration, 
»     When  he 
rse  with  him, 
;he  kind  treat- 
was  so  much 
hat  he  might 
for  so  they  use 
itered  into  the 
|d  after  eating 
terminated  in 

lo  visit  Hoche- 
lartier  to  look 
lis  largest  ves- 
Iven,"  opposite 
'  Santa  Croix," 
1  lost  in  bring- 
hc  harbour  for 
|r  acquaintance 
■visit,  began  to 
llablished  with 
lignoagny  and 


Domaignia  were  suffered  to  return  to  their  villages,  and  it  soon  became 
apparent,  that  the  knowledge  they  had  acquired  of  the  French,  would  be 
wioMi'd  to  put  their  countrymen  on  their  guard  agtiinst  encroachments 
upon  their  soil.  Taignoagiiy,  iu  p.nrticular,  rendered  himself  obnoxious 
to  the  French,  by  his  sullen  and  altered  conduct,  and  the  activity  he  after- 
wards manifested  in  thwarting  Cartier's  de.cign  of  visiting  the  isLind  of 
Hochelaga,  although  it  appears,  he  hud,  previous  to  leaving  thts  vessels, 
promised  to  serve  as  a  guide  on  the  exped/iion. 

Donnacona  himself  opposed  tho  projected  visit,  by  argument,  by  artifice, 
and  finally,  by  the  extraor<linary  resource  of  human  gifts.  I J  is  aversion 
to  it  fiist  evinced  itself  by  keeping  aloof,  and  adopting  a  shy  and  suspicious 
demeanour.  Cailier  finding  this  chief,  with  T.  and  D.  and  a  numerous 
retinue  in  his  vicinity,  "  under  a  point  or  nook  of  land,"  ordered  a  part  of 
his  men  to  follow  him,  and  suddenly  presented  himself  in  the  midst  of 
thorn.  After  mutual  salutitions,  Taignoagny  got  up  and  addressed  him, 
in  behalf  of  Donnacona,  complaining  that  they  came  armed,  to  which 
Cdrtier  replied  that,  it  was  the  custom  of  his  country,  and  a  custom  he 
coulJ  not  dispense  with.  The  bustle  an<l  heat  of  the  iritroiTuction  being 
over,  Cartier  played  the  part  of  a  politic  diplomatist,  and  was  met  by  Don- 
nacona and  his  counsellors  on  his  own  grounds,  and  the  whole  interview, 
though  it  resulted  in  what  is  called  "a  marvellous  steadfast  league  of 
friendship"  can  only  be  looked  upon,  as  a  strife,  in  which  it  is  the  object 
of  both  parties  to  observe  the  most  profound  dissimulation.  This 
"league  was  ratified  by  the  natives,  with  three  loud  cries,  "a  most  hor- 
rible thing  to  hear"  says  the  narrator. 

On  the  very  next  day  Donnacona,  attended  with  T.  and  D.  and  10  or 
12  '"of  the  chiefest  of  the  country,  with  more  than  .'500  persons,  men,  wo- 
men and  children,"  came  on  board  of  the  vessels,  at  their  moorings,  to 
protest  against  the  intended  voyage  of  exploration.  Taignoagny  opened 
the  conference,  by  saying  to  Cartier,  that  Donnacona  regretted  his  design 
of  visiting  Hochelaga,  and  had  forbid  any  of  his  people  from  accompany- 
ing him,  because  the  river  itself  "  was  of  no  impoitance."  Cartier  replied 
that  his  decision  was  made,  and  urged  the  speaker  to  go  with  liini,  as  ho 
had  promised,  offering  to  make  the  voyage  everj'  way  advantageous  to 
him.  A  prompt  refusal,  on  the  part  of  T.  and  the  sudden  withdrawal  of 
the  whole  collected  multitude,  terminated  this  interview. 

On  the  next  day  Donnacon,!.  re-appcarcd  with  all  his  followers,  bring- 
ing presents  of  fish,  singing  and  dancing.  He  then  caused  all  his  people 
to  pass  to  one  side,  and  drawing  a  circle  in  the  sand,  requested  Cartier 
and  his  followers,  to  enter  into  it.  This  arrangement  concluded,  he  be- 
gan an  address,  "  holding  in  one  of  his  hands  a  maiden  child  ten  or 
twelve  years  old,"  whom  he  presented  to  Cartier,  the  multitude  at 
the  same  time  ffiving  three  shouts.  He  then  brought  forward  two  malb 
children,  separately,  presenting  them  in  the  same  manner,  and  his  people 


i\'\:y'. 


'd'-  \.  n 


mg^ntf 


342 


cautikh's  voyages  op  discovers. 


at  each  presentation,  expressing  their  assent  by  sliouts.  Taignoagny,  who 
by  this  time  had  drawn  Mpon  iiiniself  the  epithet  of  "crafty  knave"  told 
the  "captain"  (as  Cartier  is  ail  alonjj  termed,)  that  one  of  the  children 
was  his  own  brother,  and  that  the  girl  was  a  daughter  of  Donnacona's 
'own  sister,"  and  that  this  presentation,  was  made  to  him,  sokly  with  a 
view  of  dissuading  him  fiom  his  expedition.  Curlier  persisted  in  s.iyirig. 
that  his  mind  was  made  up,  and  could  not  be  altered.  Ileie,  Uomiii- 
gaia  interposed,  and  said,  that  the  children  were  offered  as  '-a  sign  and 
token  of  good  will  and  security,"  aird  not  with  any  specific  purpose  of 
dissuading  him  from  the  expedition.  High  words  passed  bitwecn  the  two 
liberated  captives,  from  which  it  was  evident  that  one,  or  the  other,  had 
either  misconceived  or  misrepresented  the  object  of  the  gift.  Cartier  how- 
ever, took  the  children,  and  gave  Donnacona  "two  swords  and  two  cop- 
per basins,"  for  which  he  returned  thanks,  and  '  commanded  all  his  peo- 
ple to  sing  and  dance,"  and  requested  the  captain  to  cause  a  piece  of 
artillery  to  be  discharged  for  his  gratification  Cartier  readily  unproved 
this  hint,  to  show  them  the  destructive  eflects  of  European  aitillery, 
and  at  a  sigrnil,  ordered  twelve  pieces,  charged  with  ball,  to  be  fired  into  the 
contiguous  forest,  by  which  they  were  so  astounded  that  they  "  put  them- 
selves to  flight,  howling,  crying,  and  shrieking,  so  that  it  seemed  hell 
was  broke  loose." 

These  attempts  to  frustrate  the  purposed  voyage,  having  failed,  the  na- 
tives end(  avoured  to  put  the  captain's  credulity  to  the  test,  and  operate 
upon  his  fears.  For  thi"  purpose  three  natives  \kcre  disguised  to  play  the 
part  of  "devils,"  wrappeii  in  skins,  besmeared,  and  provided  with  horns. 
Thus  equipped  they  took  advantage  of  the  tide,  to  drop  down  along  side 
Cartier's  vessels,  uttering  words  of  uiiinttlligible  import  as  they  passed, 
but  keeping  their  faces  steadfastly  directed  toward  the  wood.  At  the 
same  time  Donnacona,  and  his  people  rushed  out  of  the  wood  to  the 
shore, — attracting  the  attention  of  the  ships'  crews  in  various  ways,  and 
finally  seized  the  mock  "devils"  at  the  moment  of  their  landing,  and 
carried  them  into  the  woods,  where  their  revelations  were  uttered. 

The  resii!  uf  this  clumsy  trick,  was  annoimced  by  Taignoagny  and 
Domaigaia,  who  said,  that  their  goil  "Cudruaigny  had  spoken  in  Hoche- 
laga" — importing  ill  tidings  to  the  French,  and  that  he  had  sent  these 
three  men  to  inform  them  that,  there  was  so  much  ice  and  snow  in  the 
country,  that  whoever  entered  it,  must  die.  A.Qer  some  inlerrogatives 
pro  and  con,  in  the  course  of  which  the  power  of  "  his  Priests"  was  oddly 
contrasted  by  the  French  commander  with  that  of  the  "devils,"  both 
Taignoagny  and  Domaigaia  coincided  in  finally  declaring  that  Donna- 
cona, "would  by  no  means  permit  that  i^riy  of  them  should  go  with  him 
to  Hochelaij.i,"  unless  he  would  leave  hostages  in  his  hands. 

All  these  artifices  appear  to  have  had  but  little  effect  on  Cartier's  plan. 
He  told  his  freed  interpreters,  that  if  they  would  not  go  willingly,  they 


CAIITIEU*S   VOYAGES   OF    DISCOVERY. 


343 


mi^ht  slay,  ariJ  he  would  prosecute  the  voynge  without  ihrm.  Accord- 
uigly,  hiivinij  finishi'd  niooiiii<j  liis  vessels,  on  the  lUth  September  ho  set 
out  to  exphjio  the  upper  poitions  of  the  river,  tiikinjr  hi.>  smallest  vessel 
and  two  boiU.s  with  fifty  milliners,  and  the  suj)eriiumerary  gentlemen  of  his 
party.  A  voyage  of  ten  days  brought  liiin  to  an  expansion  of  the  river, 
whieh  he  named  thi;  lake  of  Angolesme,  but  which  is  now  known  under 
tl>e  name  of  St.  IVter.  Here  the  shallowness  of  tht;  water,  and  rapidity 
of  tlie  current  above,  induced  him  to  leave  the  "  Hermerillon,"  and  he 
proceeded  with  the  two  boats  and  twenty-eight  armed  men.  The  fertility 
of  the  shore,  the  beauty  and  luxuriance  of  the  forest  trees,  mantled  as 
they  often  were,  with  live  vine  loaded  \.ith  clusters  of  grapes,  the  variety 
of  water  fowl,  and  above  all  the  friendly  treatment  they  every  where  re- 
ceived from  the  Indians,  excited  unmi  !','led  admiration.  One  of  the 
chiefs  whom  they  encountered  presented  Cartier  with  two  childien,  his 
son  and  daughter,  the  latter  of  whom,  being  7  or  8  years  old,  he  accepted. 
On  another  occasion  he  was  carried  ashore  by  one  of  a  party  of  hunters, 
as  "  lightly  and  easily  as  if  he  had  been  a  child  of  five  years  old." 
Presents  oi  fish  were  made,  at  every  point,  where  he  came  in  contact 
with  the  natives,  who  seemed  to  vie  with  each  other  in  acts  of  hospitality. 

These  marks  of  welcome  and  respect  continued  to  be  manifested  during 
the  remainder  of  the  journey  to  Hochelaga,  where  he  arrived  on  the  2d 
of  October.  A  muUitude  of  both  srxes  and  all  ages  had  collected  on  the 
shore  to  witness  his  approach,  and  v  Icome  his  arrival.  They  expressed 
their  joy  hy  dancing,  "clustering  about  us,  making  much  of  us,  bringing 
tlieir  young  children  in  their  arms  only  to  have  our  captain  and  his  com- 
pany touch  them."  Cartier  landed,  and  spent  half  an  hour  in  receiving 
their  caresses,  and  distributed  tin  beads  to  the  women,  and  knives  to  some 
of  the  men,  and  then  "  retured  to  the  boats  to  supper."  The  natives 
built  large  fires  on  the  beach,  and  continued  dancing,  and  merry  making 
all  night,  frequently  exclaiming  A^^uiazf,  which  is  said  to  signify  "mirth 
and  safety." 

Early  the  next  morning  Cartier  having  "  very  gorgeously  attired  him- 
self," and  taking  20  mariners,  with  his  officers  and  supernumeraiies, 
landed  for  the  purpose  of  visiting  the  town,  taking  some  of  the  natives  for 
guides.  After  following  a  will  beaten  path,  leading  through  an  oak 
forest,  for  four  or  five  miles,  he  was  met  by  a  chief,  accompanied  by  a  re- 
tinue, sent  out  to  meet  him,  who  by  signs  gave  him  to  understand,  that 
he  was  desired  to  rest  at  that  spot,  where  a  fire  had  been  kindled,  a  piece 
of  I'ivili'y,  which  it  may  be  supposed,  was  something  more  than  an  empty 
compliment  on  an  October  morning.  The  chief  here  made  "a  long  dis» 
course,"  which,  of  course,  was  not  understood,  but  they  inferred  it  was 
expressive  of  "mirth  and  friendship."  In  return  Caitier  gave  him  2 
hatchets,  2  knives  and  a  cross^  which  he  made  him  kiss,  and  then  put  it 
around  his  neck. 


yi 


I 


844 


CARTIER'S   VOYAGES   OF   DISCOVERY. 


This  done  the  procession  advanced,  without  further  interruption,  to  the 
"  city  of  Iloch  'ligii,"  which  is  described  as  seated  in  the  midst  of  cuhi- 
vated  fields,  at  l.ie  distance  of  n  league  fioni  the  niountiiin.  It  was  securerf 
by  three  ramparts  "one  within  another,"  about  2  rods  in  height,  "cun 
ningly  joined  together  after  their  fashion,"  whh  u  single  gate  "shut  with* 
piles  and  stakes  and  bars."  This  entrance,  and  other  parts  of  the  walls, 
had  plitforms  above,  provided  with  stones  for  defensive  operations.  Tho 
ascent  to  these  platforms  was  by  ladders. 

As  the  French  approached,  great  numbers  came  out  to  meet  them. 
They  were  conducted  by  the  guides,  to  a  large  square  enclosure  in  the 
centre  of  the  town,  "  being  from  side  to  side  a  good  stone's  cast."  They 
\»'ere  first  greeted  by  the  female  part  of  the  population,  who  brought  their 
children  in  their  arms,  and  rushed  eagerly  to  touch  or  rub  the  faces  and 
arms  of  the  strangers,  or  whatever  parts  of  their  bodies  they  could  ap- 
proach. The  men  now  caused  the  females  to  retire,  and  seated  them- 
selves formally  in  circles  upon  the  ground ;  as  if,  says  the  narrator, 
"some  comedy  or  show"  was  about  to  be  rehearsed.  Mats  were  then 
brought  in  by  the  women,  and  spread  upon  the  ground,  for  the  visitors  to 
sit  u;- on.  Last  came  the  "Lord  and  King'  Agouhanna,  a  palsied  old 
man,  borne  upon  the  sht)ulders  of  9  or  JO  attendants,  sitting  on  a  "great 
stag  skin."  They  placed  him  near  the  mais  occupied  by  Cartier  and  his 
party.  This  simple  potentate  "  was  no  whit  better  apparelled  than  any  ol 
the  rest,  only  excepted,  that  he  had  a  certain  thing  made  of  the  skins 
of  hedgehogs,  like  a  red  wreath,  and  that  was  instead  of  bis  crown." 

After  a  salutation,  in  which  gesticulation  awkwardly  supplied  the  placo 
of  language,  the  old  chief  exhibited  his  palsied  limbs,  for  the  purpose  of 
being  touched,  by  the  supposed  celestial  visitants.  Cartier,  although  he 
appeared  to  be  a  man  of  sense  and  decision,  on  other  occasions,  was  not 
proof  against  the  homage  to  his  imputed  divinity;  but  quite  seiiously  fell 
to  rubbing  the  credulous  chiefs  legs  and  arms.  For  this  act,  the  chief 
presented  him  his  fretful  "crown."  The  blind,  lame,  and  unpotent,  of 
lh,e  town  were  now  brought  in,  and  laid  before  him,  "some  so  old  that  the 
hair  of  their  eyelids  came  down  and  covered  their  cheeks,"  all  of  whom 
he  touched,  manifesting  his  own  seriousness  by  reading  the  Gospel  of 
St.  John,  and  "  praying  to  God  that  it  would  please  him  to  open  tho 
hearts  of  this  poor  people,  and  to  make  them  know  his  holy  word,  and 
that  they  might  receive  baptism  and  Christendom."  He  then  read  a  por- 
tion of  the  catholic  service,  with  a  loud  voice,  during  which  the  natives 
were  "  marvellously  attentive,  looking  up  to  heaven  and  imitating  us  in 
gestures."  Some  presents  of  cutlery  and  trinkets  were  then  di.-^tributed, 
trumpets  sounded,  and  the  party  prepared  to  return  to  their  boats.  When 
about  to  leave  their  place,  the  women  interposed,  inviting  them  to  partake 
of  the  victuals  they  had  prepared — a  compliment  which  was  declmed, 
"because  the  meats  had  no  savour  at  all  of  salt."     They  were  followed 


CARTIER'S   VOVAQES   OP   riSCOVERY. 


345 


out  of  the  town  by  "divers  men  and  women,"  who  conducted  the  whole 
party  to  the  top  of  the  mountain,  commanding  a  wide  prospect  of  the  phiin, 
the  river  and  its  islands,  and  the  distant  mountains.  Trun^poited  with  a 
scene,  which  has  continued  to  afford  delight  to  the  visitors  of  ail  after  times, 
Cartier  bestowed  the  name  of  "  Mount  Royal"  upon  this  eminence — a 
name  which  has  descended,  whh  some  modificatiotis,  to  the  modern  city. 
Having  satisfied  their  curiosity,  and  obtained  such  information  respecting 
the  adjoining  regions,  as  their  imperfect  knowledge  of  the  Indian  lan- 
guage would  permit,  thfy  returned  to  their  boats,  accompanied  by  a  pro- 
miscuous throng  of  the  natives. 

Thus  ended,  on  the  3rd  Oct.  1535,  the  first  formal  meeting  between  the 
French  and  the  Indians  of  the  interior  of  Canada,  or  what  now  began  to 
be  denominated  New  France.  As  rr-spects  those  incidents  in  it,  in  which 
the  Indians  are  represented  as  looking  upon  Cariier  in  the  light  of  a 
divinity,  clothed  "'ilh  power  to  heal  the  sick  and  restore  sight  to  tiie  blind, 
every  one  will  yield  the  degree  of  faith,  which  his  credulity  permits. 
The  whole  proceeding  bears  so  sti iking  a  resemblance  to  "  Christ  heal- 
ing the  sick,"  that  it  is  probable  the  narrator  drew  more  largely  upon  his 
New  Testament,  than  any  certain  knowledge  of  the  faith  and  belief  of  a 
savage  people  whose  traditions  do  not  reach  far,  and  whose  language, 
granting  the  most,  he  but  imperfectly  understood.  As  respects  the  de- 
scription of  a  city  with  triple  walls,  those  who  know  the  manner  in  which 
our  Indian  villages  are  built,  will  be  best  enabled  to  judge  how  far  the 
narrator  supplied  by  fancy,  what  was  wanting  in  fact.  A  "  walled 
city"  was  somewhere  expected  to  be  found,  and  the  writer  found  no  belter 
place  to  locate  it.  Cartier  no  sooner  reached  his  boats,  than  he  hoisted 
sail  and  began  his  descent,  much  to  the  disappointment  of  the  Indians. 
Favoured  by  the  wind  and  tide,  he  rejoined  his  '•  Pinnace"  on  the  follow- 
ing day.  Finding  all  well,  he  continued  the  descent,  uhhont  meeting 
Hjuch  entitled  to  notice,  and  reached  the  "  port  of  the  Holy  Cross,"  on 
the  lUh  of  the  month.  During  his  absence  the  ships'  crews  had  erected 
a  breastwork  before  the  vessels,  and  mounted  several  pieces  of  ships'  can- 
non for  their  defence.  Donnacona  renewed  his  acquaintance  on  the  fol- 
lowing day,  attended  by  Taignoagny,  Domaiga,  and  others,  who  were 
treated  whh  an  appearance  of  fiiendship,  which  it  con  Id  hardly  be  ex- 
pected Cartier  could  sincerely  feol.  He,  in  return  visited  their  village 
of  Stadacona,  and  friendly  relations  being  thus  restored,  the  French  pre- 
pared for  the  approach  of  winter. 

Winter  came  in  all  its  severity.  From  the  miiUlie  of  Nov.  to  the 
middle  of  March,  the  vessels  were  enviioned  with  ice  "two  fathoms 
thick,"  and  snow  upwards  of  four  del  deep,  re  '..Jiing  alove  the  sides  of 
the  vessels.  Am!  the  wtatlu^r  is  reprrsi  ntcd  as  being  "e.Mrrmely  rax-" 
and  hittf  r."  In  the  midi^t  of  this  severity,  the  crews  were  infected  with 
'•a  strange  and  cruel  disease,"  the  natural  consequence  of  a  too  licentious 


;.  f  :H 


jiii'l  'ill 

.il:   !:  i1 


i:':M 


il 


''  i 


346 


CARTIER'S    IrOYAGKS   OF   DISCOVERV. 


intercourse  with  the  nntivps  The  viiulcnce  of  lliis  disorder  exceeded 
any  thing  ihiit  ihoy  had  before  witnessed,  though  it  is  muiiifeM,  from  the 
journal,  that  it  was  in  its  virulence  only,  that  the  disease  itself  presented 
any  new  features.  A  complete  prostration  of  strength  marked  its  cotn- 
inenceinent,  the  legs  swelled,  the  "sinews  shrunk  as  black  as  any  coal." 
The  infection  became  general,  and  e.xciled  the  greatest  alarm.  Nut  more 
than  10  pei.'sons  out  of  I  iU  were  in  a  condition  to  afford  assistance  to  the 
sick  by  the  middle  of  February.  Eight  liud  already  died,  and  5U  were 
supposed  to  be  past  recovery. 

C.iiiier,  to  prevent  his  wealcncss  being  known,  ns  well  as  to  stop  further 
infection,  interdicted  all  intercourse  with  the  natives.  He  caused  that 
"everyone  .-hould  devoutly  prepare  himself  by  prayer,  an<l  in  remem- 
brance of  Christ,  caused  his  image  lobe  set  upon  a  tree,  about  a  flight 
shot  from  the  fort,  amid  the  ice  and  snow,  giving  all  men  to  undeistand 
that  on  the  Sunday  following,  service  should  be  said  there,  and  that  whoso- 
ever could  go,  sick  or  whole,  should  go  thither  in  procession,  singing 
the  seven  psalms  of  David,  and  other  Litanies,  praying,  &c." 

The  disorder,  however,  continued  to  spread  till  there  were  not  "above 
three  sound  men  in  the  ships,  and  none  was  able  to  go  under  hatches 
to  draw  drink  for  himself,  nor  for  his  fellows."  Sometimes  they  were 
constrained  to  bury  the  dead  under  the  snow,  owing  to  their  weakness 
and  the  seventy  of  the  frost,  which  rendered  it  an  almost  incredible  labour 
to  penetrate  the  ground.  Every  artifice  was  resorted  to  by  Cailier,  to 
keep  the  true  state  of  his  crews  from  the  Indians,  and  he  sought  unremit- 
tingly for  a  remedy  against  the  disorder. 

In  this  his  eflbrts  were  at  last  crowned  with  success,  but  not  till  he  had 
lost  2j  of  his  men.  By  using  a  decoction  of  the  bark  and  leaves  of  a  cer- 
tain tree,  which  is  stated  to  be  "the  Sassafras  tree,"*  the  remainder  of  his 
crews  were  completely  recovered.  The  decoction  was  drank  freely,  and 
the  dregs  applied  e.xternally,  agreeably  to  the  directions  of  Domaigaia,  to 
whom  he  was  indebted  for  the  information,  and  who  caused  women 
to  bring  branches  of  it,  and  "  therewithal  shewed  the  way  how  to  use  it." 

The  other  incidents  of  the  winter  were  not  of  a  character  to  require  no- 
tice. Mutual  distrusc  existed.  Cartier  was  in  constant  apprehcn.<ion 
of  some  stratagem,  which  the  character  and  movements  of  his  savage 
neighbours  gave  some  grounds  for.  He  was  detained  at  the  bay  of  the 
Koly  Cross  till  the  Gth  May,  1536.  The  narrator  takes  the  opportunity 
of  this  long  season  of  inaction  to  give  descriptions  of  the  manners  and  cus- 
toms, ceremonies  and  occupations  of  the  Indians,  and  to  detail  the  informa- 
tion derived  from  them,  and  from  personal  observations  respecting  the  geo- 
graphical features  and  the  productions  of  the  country. 

•  As  tlie  tree  is  afterwards  stated  to  be  "  as  h\jr  as  any  oak  in  France,"  it  was  proba 
bly  the  box  elder,  and  not  the  Baasafros,  which  ucvcr  attained  to  much  size. 


CARTIER'S   V0YAOK9    OF   DISCOVERT. 


347 


cr  exceeded 
ivvt,  tVoin  the 
;11'  prusuiited 
ked  ils  coin- 
is  any  coal." 
.  Ni>t  more 
stance  to  the 
inJ  5U  were 

a  stop  further 
i  caused  that 
(1  ill  rernein- 
ibout  a  flight 
0  undei stand 
id  that  whoso- 
ssion,  singing 

re  not  "  above 
under  hatches 
ties  tliey  were 
heir  weakness 
rredible  labour 
by  Caitier,  to 
)ught  un  remit- 
not  till  he  had 
eaves  of  a  cer- 
iiainder  of  his 
nk  freely,  and 
3omaigaia,  to 
a  used  women 
low  to  use  it." 
to  require  no- 
apprehension 
of  his  savage 
the  bay  of  the 
K!  opportunity 
nners  and  cus- 
1  the  in  forma- 
lecting  the  geo 


Tnncliing  the  faith  of  the  Indians,  it  is  said,  they  belitved  no  n-hit  in 
God,  l)iit  id  one  whom  they  call  Cndruiagni,"  to  whom,  they  say,  they 
are  often  indebted  for  a  foreknowledge  of  the  weather.  And  when  he  iff 
angry,  his  di^jdeasure  is  manifested  hy  casting  dust  in  their  eyes.  They 
believi!  that,  after  death,  they  go  into  the  stars,  descending  by  degrees  to- 
wards the  horizon,  and  are  finally  received  into  certain  green  fields, 
abounding  in  fruits  and  flowers. 

Thty  are  represented  as  possessing  all  property  in  common,  and  as 
being  "  indilferently  well  stored"  with  the  useful  "  cominoilities"  of  the 
country — cKithinglhemselves  imperfectly  in  skins,  wearing  hose  and  shoes 
of  skins  in  winter,  and  going  barefooted  in  summer.  'I'he  men  labour 
little,  and  are  much  addicted  to  smoking.  The  condition  of  the  women  i? 
one  of  drudgery  and  servitude.  On  them  the  labour  of  tilling  the  grounds, 
&.C.,  principally  devolves.  The  young  women  live  a  dissolute  life,  until 
marriage,  and  married  women,  after  the  death  of  their  husbands,  are  con 
deinned  to  a  state  of  perpetual  widowhood.  Polygamy  is  tolerated.  Both 
se.\cs  are  represented  as  very  hardy,  and  capable  of  enduring  the  moit  in- 
tense degree  of  cold.  In  this  there  is  little  to  distinguish  the  nalive 
of  153G  from  that  of  the  present  day,  if  we  substitute  the  blankrt  for  the 
mullalus*  and  except  the  remark  respecting  the  condition  of  widows,  the 
accuracv  of  which,  as  it  was  made  upon  slight  acquaintance,  may  be  rea 
sonably  doubted.  It  may  also  be  remarked,  that  the  condition  of  young 
women,  as  described  by  Cartier,  was  more  degraded  and  vitiated  than  it  is 
now  known  to  be  among  any  of  the  North  American  tribes. 

The  geographical  information  recorded  respecting  the  St.  Lawrence 
and  its  tributaries  is  generally  vague  and  confuted.  But  may  be  referred 
to  as  containing  the  first  notice  published  by  the  French  of  the  Greul 
Liikes.  Cailier  was  told  by  Donnacona  and  others  that  the  river  origi- 
nated so  liir  in  the  interior,  that  "there  was  never  man  heard  of  that  found 
out  the  end  thereof,"  that  it  passed  through  "  two  or  three  great  lakes,"  and 
that  tliere  is  "  a  sea  of  fresh  water,"  alluding,  probably,  to  Superior. 

At  what  time  the  ice  broke  up,  is  not  distinctly  told.  It  is  stated  that 
"that  year  the  winter  was  very  long,"  and  a  scarcity  of  food  was  felt 
among  the  Indians,  so  much  so,  that  they  put  a  high  price  upon  their  ven 
ison,  iVc,  and  sometimes  look  it  back  to  their  camps,  rather  than  pait  with 
it  "any  thing  cheap."  Donnacona  and  many  of  his  people  withdrew 
themselves  to  their  hunting  grounds,  under  a  pretence  of  being  absent 
a  fortnight,  but  were  absent  two  months.  Cartier  attributed  this  long 
aksence  to  a  design  of  raising  the  country,  and  attacking  him  in  his  fortified 
positions — a  design  which  no  cordiality  of  friendship  on  the  part  of  D. 
would  prevent  his  entertaining,  and  which  the  latter  gave  some  colour  to 


i'i: 


:p,"  it  was  proba 
h  size. 


*  Rooe  ot  bearer  skins.    Eight  skins  of  two  year  old  beaver  are  reqii  Ted  to  maks 
•uch  a  robe. 


:  I  ■ 


ii:! 


348 


cartier's  voyaoes  op  discovert. 


by  noglcrting  to  visit  Cartior  on  his  rpturn  with  great  nnnifacrs  of  nntives 
not  U'loio  seen,  ami  by  cviding  the  attfnipts  made  to  renew  iiii  inteiroiirse, 
by  r<-i;7niii^  sioloiess  us  the  caiisu  of  his  rii'glect.  Caitier  felt  liis  own 
weuk:»;ss,  tVom  the  death  of  so  many  of  iiis  crew  and  the  sickness  of  otiiers, 
nnJ  lias  lecordod  for  his  government  on  this  occasion  the  proverb,  that 
"he  that  takes  heinl  and  shields  himself  from  all  men,  may  hope  to  escape 
from  some."  He  determined  to  abandon  one  of  his  vessels,  that  he  might 
completely  man  and  re-fit  the  others,  and  appears  to  have  been  diligent  in 
making  early  preparations  to  return.  While  thus  engaged,  Donnacona 
(April  Hi,)  appeared  with  a  great  number  of  men  at  Staducona,  and  John 
Powlef,  "  who  being  best  believed  of  those  people,"  he  sent  to  reconnoitre 
Oiem  in  their  principal  villages,  reported  that  he  saw  so  many  people,  that 
''one  could  not  stir  for  another,  and  such  men  as  they  were  never  wont  to 
see."  'I'aignoagny,  whom  he  saw  on  this  occasion,  requested  him  to  be- 
seech Cartier  to  tiko  ofT  "  a  lord  of  the  country,"  called  Agonna,  who 
probably  stood  in  the  way  of  his  own  advancement.  Cartier  availed  him- 
self of  this  request  to  bring  on  an  interview  with  Taignoagny,  and  by  flat- 
tering his  hopes,  finally  succeeded  in  the  execution  of  a  project  he  appears 
to  have  previously  enteitained.  This  was  nothing  less  than  the  seizure 
of  Donnacona,  Taignoagny,  Domaigaia,  (his  previous  captives,)  and  "two 
more  of  the  chiefest  men,"  whom,  with  the  children  before  received,  ma!:- 
ing  ten  persons  in  all,  he  conveyed  to  France. 

This  seizure  was  made  on  the  3d  of  May,  being  "  Ilolyrood  day,"  at  a 
time  when  Cartier  had  completed  his  preparations  for  sailing.  He  took 
formal  possession  of  the  country,  under  the  name  of  New  France,  by 
erecting  a  cross  "thirty-five  feet  in  height,"  bearing  a  Abield  with  the  arms 
of  France,  and  the  following  inscription : 

"  Fraaciscus  priinum  dei  gratia  Francoriim  Rex  regnat," 

a  sentence  upon  which  this  unjustifiable  outrage  formed  a  practical  com- 
ment. Three  days  afterwards  he  sailed  from  the  port  of  the  Holy  Cross, 
leaving  crowds  of  the  natives  to  bewail  the  loss  of  their  chiefs.  And 
M'hose  kindness  led  them  to  send  on  board  a  supply  of  provisions,  when 
they  found  they  could  not  efTect  their  liberation.  Finding  the  current  of 
the  St.  Lawrence  much  swoln,  he  came  to  anchor  at  the  isle  of  Filbcrds, 
near  the  entrance  of  the  Sagnenay.  where  he  was  detained  nine  days.  In 
the  meantime  many  of  the  natives  of  Sagnenay  visited  the  sliips,  and  find 
ing  Donnacona  a  prisoner,  they  presented  him  three  packs  of  beaver.  Or 
the  I7th  May,  he  made  an  unsuccessful  attempt  to  proceed,  but  was  fo'^cd 
back  and  detained  four  daj-s  longer,  waiting  "till  the  fierceness  of  the  wa 
ters"  were  past.  He  entered  and  passed  out  of  the  gulph  on  the  '21st,  bui 
encountering  adverse  winds,  did  not  take  his  final  departure  from  the  New- 
foundland coast  till  the  19th  June.     He  then  took  advantage  of  a  favorable 


CARTIER8   VOYAQEB   OF   DISCOVERT. 


349 


wind,  nntl  performed  the  homt»tvnrd  voyngc  in  17  days.  lie  entered  the 
port  of  St,  Miilo,  July  0,  l.')3G,  navinj^  liwii  alisoiit  li'ss  than  14  months,  8 
of  which  had  been  passed  in  tbe  St.  Lavvreiice. 


THIRD  rOTAOB. 

The  reports  and  discoveries  of  Carticr  were  so  well  received  by  the 
King  of  France  (Francis  1  ),  that  he  determined  to  colonize  the  newly 
discovered  country,  and  named  John  Francis  de  la  Roche,  Lord  of  Rob< 
erval,  his  *■*  Lieutenant  and  Governor  in  the  countries  of  Canada  and 
Hochelaga."  Cartier  retained  his  former  situation  as  "  Captain  General 
and  leader  of  the  ships,''  and  to  him  was  entrusted  the  iurther  prosecution 
of  discoveries.  Five  vessels  were  ordered  to  be  prepared  at  St.  Mulo,  and 
measures  appear  to  have  been  taken  to  carry  out  settlers,  cattle,  seeds, 
and  agricultural  implements.  Much  delay,  however,  seems  to  liavo 
attended  the  preparations,  and  before  they  were  completed,  Donnacona 
and  his  companions,  who  had  been  baptized,  paid  the  debt  of  nature.  A 
little  girl,  ten  years  old,  was  the  only  person  surviving  out  of  the  whole 
number  of  captives. 

It  is  seldom  that  a  perfect  harmony  has  prevailed  between  the  leaders 
of  naval  and  land  forces,  in  the  execution  of  great  enterprises.  And 
Chough  but  little  is  said  to  guide  the  reader  in  forming  a  satisfactory  opi- 
nion on  the  subject,  the  result  in  this  instance  proved  that  there  wtis  a 
settled  dissatisfaction  in  the  mind  of  Carticr  respecting  the  general  ar- 
rangements for  the  contemplated  voyage.  Whether  he  thought  himself 
neglected  in  not  being  invested  with  the  government  of  the  country  he 
had  discovered,  or  felt  unwilling  that  another  should  share  in  the  honors 
of  future  discoveries,  cannot  now  be  determined.  It  should  be  recollected 
that  the  conquest  of  Mexico  had  then  but  recently  been  accomplished 
(1520),  and  it  is  not  improbable  that  Cartier,  who  had  taken  some  pains 
to  exalt  Donnacona  into  another  Montezuma,  thought  himself  entitled 
to  receive  from  Francis,  rewards  and  emoluments  in  some  measure  cor- 
responding to  those  which  his  great  rival,  Charles,  had  finally  bestowed 
upon  Coi'tcz. 

Whatever  were  the  causes,  four  years  elapsed  before  the  ships  were 
prepared,  and  M.  La  Roche,  on  visiting  the  vessels  in  the  road  of  St. 
Malo,  ready  for  sea,  then  informed  Cartier  that  his  artillery,  munitions, 
and  *'  other  necessary  things"  which  he  had  prepared,  were  not  yet  arriv- 
ed from  Champaigne  and  Normandy.  Cartier,  in  the  meantime,  had 
received  positive  orders  from  the  King  to  set  sail.  In  this  exigency,  it 
was  determined  that  Cartier  should  proceed,  while  the  King's  Lieut»*n> 
ant  should  remain  "  to  prepare  a  ship  or  two  at  Honileur,  whither  ho 
tliought  his  things  were  come." 

This  arrangement  concluded,  La  Roche  invested  Cartier  with  full 


'','•  I 


300 


cartier's  voyaqgs  of  OrSCOVERY. 


powers  to  oct  until  liis  arrival,  and  the  latter  set  sail  with  five  shipji, 
*•  well  furnished  and  victualled  for  two  years,"  on  the  2'3i\  of  May,  1&40. 
Storn)!4  and  contrary  winds  attended  the  paNsage.  The  ships  ptrled  com- 
pany, and  were  kept  so  long  at  sea,  that  they  wctc  coinpeiled  to  watei 
the  cattle,  &c.,  they  look  out  for  breed,  with  cider.  At  length,  the  ves< 
■els  rc-asseinhled  in  the  harbor  of  Carpunt  in  Newfoundland,  and  after 
taking  in  wood  and  water,  proceeded  on  the  voyage,  Cartier  uot  deem- 
ing it  advisable  to  wait  longer  for  the  coining  of  La  Koche.  He  reached 
the  httle  haven  of  Saincte  Croix  (where  he  wintered  i.i  the  former  voy- 
age), on  the  23d  of  August.  His  arrival  was  welcomed  by  the  natives, 
who  crowded  around  his  vessels,  with  Agona  at  their  head,  making 
inquiries  after  Donnacona  and  his  companions  in  captivity.  Cartier 
replied,  that  Donnacona  was  dead,  and  his  bones  rested  in  the  ground 
•^that  the  other  persons  had  become  great  lords,  and  wern  married,  and 
settled  in  France.  No  displeasure  was  evinced  by  the  intelligence  of 
Donnacona^s  death.  Agona,  on  the  contrary,  seemed  to  be  well  pleased 
with  it,  probably,  as  the  journalist  thinks,  because  it  left  him  to  rule  in  his 
stead.  He  took  off  his  head-dress  and  bracelets,  both  being  of  yellow 
leather  edged  with  wampum,  and  presented  them  to  Cartier.  The  lat- 
ter made  a  suitable  return  to  him  and  his  attendants  in  small  presents, 
intimating  that  he  had  brought  many  new  things,  which  were  intended 
for  them.  He  returned  the  chieftain^s  simple  "  crown."  They  then 
ate,  drank,  and  departed. 

Having  thus  formally  renewed  intercourse  with  the  natives,  Cartier 
sent  his  boats  to  explore  a  more  suitable  harbor  and  place  of  landing. 
They  reported  in  favor  of  a  small  river,  about  four  leagues  above,  where 
the  vessels  were  accordingly  moored,  and  their  cargoes  discharged.  Of 
the  spot  thus  selected  for  a  fort  and  harbor,  as  it  was  destined  afterwards 
to  become  celebrated  in  the  history  of  Canada,  it  may  be  proper  to  give 
a  more  detailed  notice  of  Cartier's  original  description.  The  river  is 
stated  to  be  fifty  paces  broad,  having  three  fathoms  water  at  full  tide, 
and  but  a  foot  at  the  ebb,  having  its  entrance  towards  the  south,  and  its 
course  verj'  serpentine.  The  beauty  and  fertility  of  the  lands  borderiiig 
it,  the  vigorous  growth  of  trees,  and  the  rapidity  of  vegetation,  are  highly 
and  (I  believe)  very  justly  extolled.  Near  it,  there  is  said  to  be  "a  high 
and  .steep  cliff,"  which  it  was  necessary  to  ascend  by  "a  way  in  manner 
of  a  pair  of  stairs,"  and  below  it,  and  between  it  and  the  river,  an  inter- 
val sufficiently  extensive  to  accommodate  a  fort.  A  work  of  defence 
■was  also  built  upon  the  cliff,  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  the  "  nether 
fort  and  the  ships,  and  all  things  that  might  pass,  as  well  by  the  great,  as 
by  this  small  river."  Upon  the  cliff  a  spring  of  pure  water  was  discov- 
ered near  the  fort,  "  adjoining  whereunto,"  says  the  narrator,  *'  we  found 
good  store  of  stones,  which  we  esteemed  to  the  diamonds"  (limpid 
quartz).      At  the  f  jot  of  the  cliff,  faciog  the  St.  Lawrence,  they  found 


cartikr's  voy/.oes  of  discovery. 


361 


I  five  shipy, 
1  May.lMO. 
pnrlfd  com- 
lleil  U)  wutei 
glh,  the  v»'s« 
id,  and  after 
•r  not  decm- 
H«  reached 
!  furnier  voy- 
y  the  natives, 
>ead,  making 
ily.      Cartier 
n  the  ground 

I  married,  and 
nteliigence  of 
p  w  ell  pleased 

II  to  rule  in  his 
ling  of  yellow 
ier.  The  lat- 
mall  presents, 
were  inunded 
'    They  then 

ativps,  Cartier 
Lce  of  landing, 
above,  where 
scharged.     Of 
[led  afterwards 
proper  to  give 
The  river  is 
r  at  full  tide, 
south,  and  its 
ands  bordering 
ion,  are  highly 
d  tube  "a  high 
way  in  manner 
river,  an  intcr- 
ork  of  defence 
g  the  "  nelher 
by  the  great,  as 
ter  was  discov- 
tor,  •'  we  found 
louds"  (limpid 
ace,  they  found 


iron,  and  at  the  water^s  edge  "  certain  leaves  of  fine  gold  (mica)  as  thick 
OS  uinan's  nail." 

I'he  ground  was  su  favorable  for  tillage,  that  twenty  men  labored  at 
an  acre  and  a  half  in  one  day.  Cabbage,  turnip, and  lettuce  need,  sprung 
up  tho  eighth  day.  A  luxurious  meadow  was  found  along  the  river,  and 
the  w  oods  were  clustered  with  a  species  of  the  native  grape.  Sucti  were 
the  natural  appearance  and  advantages  of  a  spot  which  was  destined  to 
be  the  future  site  of  the  city  and  fortress  of  Quebec,*  "  'Ut  to  which 
he  gave  the  name  of '  Charlesbourg  Royal.'  " 

Cartier  lost  no  time  in  despatching  two  of  his  vessels  to  France,  under 
command  of  .Mace  Jollobert  and  Stephen  Noel,  his  brother-in-law  and 
nephew,  with  letters  to  the  king,  containing  an  account  of  his  voyage 
and  proceedings,  accompanied  with  specimens  of  the  mineral  treasures  he 
supposed  himself  to  have  discovered ;  and  taking  care  to  add  ''  how 
Muns.  Roberval  had  not  yet  come,  and  that  he  feared  that  by  occasion 
of  contrary  winds  and  tempest.<«,  he  was  driven  back  again  into  Fiance." 
These  vessels  left  the  newly  discovered  town  and  fort  of"  Charlesbourg 
Itoyal"  on  the  2d  of  September.  And  they  were  no  sooner  despatched, 
than  Cartier  determined  to  explore  the  "  Saults"  or  rapids  ol  the  St. 
Lawrence,  which  had  been  described  to  him,  and  partly  pointed  out,  dur« 
ing  his  ascent  to  the  mountain  of  Montreal.  Leaving  the  fort  under  the 
command  of  the  Viscount  Beaupre,  he  embarked  in  two  boats  on  the  7th 
of  September,  accompanied  by  Martino  de  Painpont  and  other  "  gentle* 
men,"  with  a  suitable  complement  of  mariners.  The  only  incident  re- 
corded of  the  passage  up,  is  his  visit  to  "  the  Lord  of  IJochclay" — a  chief 
who  had  presented  him  a  little  girl,  on  his  former  visit,  and  evinced  a 
friendship  during  his  stay  in  the  river,  which  he  was  now  anxious  to 
show  that  he  preserved  the  recollection  of.  He  presented  the  chief  a 
cloak  "  of  Paris  red,"  garnished  with  buttons  and  bells,  with  two  basins 
of"  Laton"  (pewter),  and  some  knives  and  hatchets.  He  also  left  with 
this  chief  two  boys  to  acquire  the  Indian  lanj.;;uage. 

Continuing  the  a.scent,  he  reached  the  lower  "Sault"  on  the  11th  of 
the  month,  and,  on  trial,  found  it  impossible  to  ascend  it  with  the  force 
of  oars.  He  determined  to  proceed  by  land,  and  found  a  well-beaten 
path  leading  in  the  desired  course.  This  path  .soon  conducted  him  to  an 
Indian  vdlage,  where  he  was  well  received,  and  furnished  with  guides 
to  visit  the  second  "  Sault."  Here  he  was  informed  that  there  was 
another  Sault  at  some  distance,  and  that  the  river  was  not  navi|:^ablc — a 
piece  of  information  that  tneant  either  that  it  was  not  navigable  by  the 
craft  Cartier  had  entered  the  river  with,  or  was  intended  to  re[)ress  his 
furlluT  advance  into  the  country.  The  day  being  far  spent,  he  returned 
to  his  boats,  where  four  hundred  natives  awaited  his  arrival.     He  ap- 

•  Qiieiy — Is  not  thewonl  Qiiphpraileiivitivcfroml'ie  Algonquin  phrase  £'t6tc— 
a  term  itllerud  in  passing  by  a  Jangeroua  ami  rocky  co.tst  ? 


3(^2 


CARTIEnS    VOYA0E8   Of   D.8C0VERY. 


pcued  their  curioiiity,  l)y  interchanging  civiliticH,  and  distributing  smR 
fsentii,  ami  inadu  ull  it|)V(Hl  tu  return  to  Cliarlt-Hbuurg  Royal,  where  h« 
learned  that  the  natives,  ularuied  by  the  furmiduljle  deiVnceii  going  oD| 
had  intermitted  tiieir  cutlomary  vikits,  and  evinced  signs  of  hostility 
I'his  inference  was  confirmed  by  his  own  observations  on  the  downward 
passage,  and  he  determined  to  use  the  utmost  diligence  and  precautioa 
to  sustain  hims'^lf  in  his  new  position. 

1'he  rest  of  this  voyage  is  wanting.  Hackluyt  ha^,  however,  pre« 
served  two  letters  of  Jacques  No«>l,  a  relative  of  Cartier,  written  at  St. 
Malo  in  1587,  with  the  observations  of  latitude,  courses,  and  distances, 
made  by  *'Juhn  Alphonso  of  Xanctoigne,"  who  carried  out  La  Roche, 
Lord  of  Roberval,  to  Canada,  in  ir)42,and  a  frngm<*nt  of  Roberval's  nar* 
rative,  which  indicated  the  sequel  of  Cartier'n  third  and  last  voyage. 
From  the  latter,  it  appears  that  Kobervoi  entered  the  harbor  of  Bell* 
Isle  in  Newfoundland,  on  the  8lh  of  June,  1542,  on  his  way  to  Canada; 
and  while  there,  Cartier  unexpectedly  entered  the  same  harbor,  on  hif 
return  to  France.  He  reported  that  he  was  unable  '*  with  his  amall 
company"  to  maintain  a  fcoting  in  the  country,  owing  to  the  incessant 
hostility  of  the  natives,  anU  had  resolved  to  return  to  France.  He  pre- 
•ented  the  limpid  quartz,  and  gold  yellow  mica,  which  he  had  carefully 
cherished,  under  a  belief  that  he  had  discovered  in  these  resplendent 
minerals,  the  repositories  of  gold  and  diamonds.  An  experiment  was 
made  the  next  day,  upon  what  is  denominated  "  gold  ore,"  by  whicli 
term  the  journalist  does  not  probably  refer  to  the  "  mica,"  considered, 
in  an  age  in  which  mineralogy  had  not  assumed  the  rank  of  a  science,  as 
"  leaves  of  gold,"  but  to  pieces  of  yellow  pyrites  of  iron,  which  it  is  men- 
tioned in  the  description  of  the  environs  of ''  Charlesbourg  Royal"  Cartier 
had  discovered  in  the  slate  rock.  And  the  ore  was  pronounced  "  good" 
— a  proof  either  of  gross  deception,  or  gross  ignorance  in  the  experi- 
menter. Cartier  spoke  highly  of  the  advantages  the  country  presented 
for  settlement,  in  point  of  fertility.  He  had,  however,  determined  \» 
leave  it.  He  disobeyed  RobcrvaPs  order  to  return,  and  '*  both  he  and 
his  company"  secretly  left  the  harbor,  and  made  the  best  of  their  way  t* 
France,  being  **  moved,"  as  the  journalist  adds,  "with  ambition,  be- 
cause they  would  have  all  the  glory  of  the  discovery  of  these  parts  ts 
themselves." 
Jaauary  21st,  lfi29. 


THE    INFL.UBNOB    OF    ARX)I::NT    S1MRIT9. 


8ft3 


THE  INFI.UKNCi:   ol'   AliDKNT  SI'IIMTS  (^N  TIIK  CONDI- 
TlON  1)1-'  THK  NORTH  AMKinCA.N   INDIANS. 


«N  AOOKi)t»  nicAD  nn-oiiF:  tug  cmii'pewa  tcmini'v  TKMpr.aANCB  booibty,  at 

SAUt/r   STK-MAUIK,    MAY  8th,  1833, 

TifK  cin-cls  of  iiitoinperunc;  on  the  eliaractor  ot'iialinns  ami  iiulividu- 
als  liiivi;  bi'fii  ol'lea  iU'|>ifU'<l,  wilhiri  u  I'l-w  yi'iirs,  in  tUitlirnl  colors,  imJ 
by  gil'ti'il  Miiiiils.  *'  Tlioui>lit.s  tliat  brcullid  and  words  tiiut  burn"  wero 
oncf  sujipost'd  to  lie  conliiu-d,  exclusively,  to  i;ivi!  niflody  to  tlio  lyre, 
und  lilf  to  tlu'  ciuivuss.  Hut  the  conct'[itioMS  of  modern  benevolence 
have  disiifllcd  the  illusion,  and  tiiujjht  us  tluit  j^eniiis  iuis  no  higher  ob- 
jects than  the  promotion  of  the  (greatest  amount  of  ^ood  to  man — tiiat 
these  objects  come  home  to  tlu-  "  busiiu'ss  and  bosoms"  of  men  in  their 
every  day  avocations — tliat  they  lie  level  to  every  capacity,  and  never 
assume  so  exalted  a  character,  as  when  they  are  directed  to  increase  tho 
sum  of  domestic  hajjpiness  and  lireside  enjoyment — 

"  To  mend  the  morals  and  improve  the  heart." 

It  is  this  consideration  that  gives  to  the  temperance  effort  in  our  day, 
a  refined  and  expansive  character — 

"  Above  all  Greek,  above  all  Roman  fame"— 
which  has  enlisted  in  its  cause  sound  heads  and  jjlowing  hearts,  in  all 
parts  of  our  country — which  is  daily  augmentln;^  the  sjdiere  of  its  indu- 
euce,  and  which  has  already  carried  its  precepts  and  examples  from  the 
little  sea-board  village,*  where  it  originated,  to  the  foot  of  Lake  Superior. 
And  I  have  now  the  pleasure  of  seeing  before  me  a  society,  assembled  on 
their  first  public  meeting,  who  have  "banded  together,"  not  with  such 
mistaken  zeal  as  dictated  the  killing  of  Paul,  or  assassinating  Ca-sar,  but 
for  giving  their  aid  in  staying  the  tide  of  intemperance  which  has  been 
rolling  westward  for  more  than  three  centuries,  sweeping  away  thou- 
sands of  while  and  red  men  in  its  course — which  has  grown  with  the 
growth  of  the  nation,  and  strengthened  with  its  strength,  and  which 
llireaten;j  with  an  overwhelming  moral  desolation  all  who  do  not  adopt 
the  rigid  maxim — 

"  Touch  not,  taste  not,  handle  not." 

The  J)ritish  critic  of  the  last  century  little  thought,  while  moralizing 
upon  some  of  the  weaknesses  of  individual  genius,  that  he  was  uttering 
maxims  which  would  eneoumge  the  exertions  of  \'t)!unlury  associations 
of  men  to  i)ut  a  stop  to  intemperance.  It  was  as  true  then  as  now,  that 
'  in  the  bottle,  discontent  seeks  for  comfort,  cowardice  for  courage,  and 
bashfulness  for  confidence."     It  was  as  true  then,  as  now,  that  the  "  neg- 

*  Andover. 
23 


354 


THE    INFLUENCE    OF    ARDENT   SPIRITS 


ligcnce  and  irregularity"  which  are  the  fruits  of  this  habit, "  if  long  con- 
tinued, \vill  render  knowledge  useless,  wit  ridiculous,  and  genius  con- 
temptible." "  Who,"  he  exclaims,  "  that  ever  asked  succors  from 
j3acchus,  was  able  to  preserve  himself  from  being  enslaved  by  his  aux- 
iliary ?"•  And  is  there  a  species  of  servitude  more  pernicious  in  its  in- 
fluence, more  degrading  in  its  character,  more  destructive  of  all  physical 
and  intellectual  power,  than  the  slavery  of  inebriation  1  The  rage  of 
the  conflagration — the  devastation  of  the  flood — the  fury  of  the  tempest, 
are  emblematic  of  the  moral  fury  of  the  mind  under  the  influence  of 
alcohol.  It  is  equally  ungovernable  in  its  power,  and  destructive  in  its 
effects.  But  its  devastations  are  more  to  be  deplored,  because  they  are 
the  devasta'ions  of  human  faculties — of  intellectual  power — of  animal 
er  rgy — of  moral  dignity — of  social  happiness — of  temporal  health — of 
eternal  felicity. 

Intemperance  is  emphatically  the  parent  of  disease,  mental  and  phy- 
sical. Its  direct  eflTects  are  to  blunt  the  faculty  of  correct  thinking,  and 
to  paralyze  the  power  of  vigorous  action.  Nothing  more  effectually 
takes  away  from  the  human  mind,  its  ordinary  practical  powers  of  dis- 
crimination and  decision,  without  which  man  is  like  a  leaf  upon  the  tern- 
peat,  or  the  chaff"  before  the  wind.  Dr.  Darwin  has  aptly  compared  the 
effects  of  spirituous  liquors  upon  the  lungs  to  the  ancient  fable  of  Pro- 
metheus stealing  fire  from  heaven,  who  was  punished  for  the  theft  by 
a  vulture  gnawing  on  the  liver.f  A  striking  allegory  :  but  one  which  is 
not  inaptly  applied  to  characterize  the  painful  and  acute  diseases  which 
are  visited  upon  the  inebriate.  Dr.  Rush  was  an  early  advocate  of  the 
cause.  He  likened  the  effects  of  the  varic  is  degrees  of  alcohol,  in  spir- 
ituous drinks,  to  the  artificial  mensuration  of  heat  by  the  thermometer, 
and  took  a  decided  stand  in  pointing  out  its  poisonous  efl^ects  upon  the 
system,  in  tl  c  generation  of  a  numerous  class  of  diseases,  acute  and 
chronic. 

If  unhealthy  food  had  been  the  cause  of  such  disorders,  the  article 
would  be  rigidly  shunned.  No  man  would  choose  to  eat  twice  of  the 
cicuta  ;  to  use  bread  having  a  portion  of  lime  in  it ;  or  to  drink  frequejjtly 
of  a  preparation  of  sugar  of  lead.  Even  the  intemperate  would  fear  to 
drink  of  alcohol,  in  its  state  of  chemical  purity,  for  its  effects  would  cer- 
tainly be  to  arrest  the  functions  of  life.  Yet  he  will  drink  of  this  pow- 
erful drug,  if  diluted  with  acids,  saccharine  and  coloring  matter,  water 
and  various  impurities,  under  the  disguised  names  of  wine,  brandy,  rum, 
malt  liquors,  whisky,  cordials,  and  mixed  potations,  which  all  tend  to 
pamper  the  natural  depravity  of  the  human  heart,  and  poison  its  powers 
of  healthful  action. 

Alcohol  is  one  of  the  preparations  which  were  brought  to  light  iu  the 


•  Dr.  Johnson. 


t  Zoonotnis^ 


ON  THE   INDIAN   RACE. 


355 


"  long  con- 
enius  con- 
cors  from 
ly  his  aux- 
is  in  its  in- 
ill  physical 
rhe  rage  of 
le  tempest, 
nflucnce  of 
ictive  in  its 
se  they  are 
—of  animal 
health — of 

al  and  phy- 
linking,  and 
3  offectually 
wers  of  dis- 
pon  the  tem- 
ompared  the 
able  of  Pro- 
thc  theft  by 
anc  which  is 
leases  which 
ocate  of  the 
jhol,  in  spir- 
lermometer, 
;ts  upon  the 
acute  and 

the  article 
twice  of  the 
Ilk  frequently 
ould  fear  to 
Is  would  cer- 
of  this  pow- 
natter,  water 
brandy,  rum, 
all  tend  to 
m  its  powers 

0  light  in  the 


age  of  the  Alchemy ists — when  the  human  mind  had  run  mad  in  a  philo- 
Bophic  research  after  two  substances  which  were  not  found  in  nature — the 
philosopher's  stone,  and  the  universal  panacea.  One,  it  was  believed, 
woiS  to  transmute  all  substances  it  touched  into  gold,  and  the  other,  to  cure 
all  diseases.  The  two  great  desires  of  the  world — wealth  and  long  life, 
were  thus  to  be  secured  in  a  way  which  Moses  and  the  Prophets  had 
never  declared.  A  degree  of  patient  ascetic  research  was  devoted  to  the 
investigation  of  natural  phenomena,  which  the  world  had  not  before  wit- 
nessed ;  and  modern  science  is  indebted  to  the  mistaken  labors  of  this 
race  of  chemical  monks,  for  many  valuable  discoveries,  which  were,  for 
the  most  part,  stumbled  on.  So  far  as  relates  to  the  discovery  of  the 
alcoholic  principle  of  grains,  a  singular  reversal  of  their  high  anticipa- 
tions has  ensued.  They  sought  for  a  substance  to  enrich  mankind,  but 
found  a  substance  to  impoverish  them :  they  sought  a  power  to  cure  all 
diseases,  but  they  found  one  to  cause  them.  Alcohol  is  thus  invested 
with  great  talismanic  power  :  and  this  power  is  not  to  create,  but  to 
destroy — not  to  elevate,  but  to  prostrate — not  to  impart  life,  but  death. 

How  extensive  its  uses  are,  as  a  re-agent  and  solvent,  in  medicine  and 
the  arts — or  if  its  place  could  be  supplied,  in  any  instances,  by  other  sub- 
stances— are  questions  to  be  ans*vered  by  physicians  and  chemists.  But 
admitting,  what  is  probable  to  my  own  mind,  that  its  properties  and  uses 
in  pharmacy  and  the  arts  are  indispensable  in  several  operations,  in  the 
present  state  of  our  knowledge — does  this  furnish  a  just  plea  for  its  ordi- 
nary use,  as  a  beverage,  in  a  state  of  health  1  No  more  than  it  would, 
that  because  the  lanct-t  and  the  probe  are  useful  in  a  state  of  disease, 
they  should  be  continued  in  a  state  of  health.  And  do  not  every  class 
cf  men  who  continue  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  waste  tlieir  blood  by  a  diur- 
niil  exhaustion  of  its  strength  and  healthy  properties,  more  injurious  than 
a  daily  depletion  ;  and  probe  their  flesh  with  a  fluid  too  subtle  for  the 
physician  to  extract } 

The  transition  from  temperate  to  intemperate  drinking,  is  very  easy. 
And  those  who  advocate  the  moderate  use  of  distilled  spirits  are  indeed 
the  rent  advocates  of  intemperance.  No  man  ever  existed,  perhaps,  who 
thought  himself  in  danger  of  being  enslaved  by  a  practice,  which  he,  at 
first,  indulged  in  moderation.  A  habit  of  relying  upon  it  is  imperceptibly 
formed.  Nature  is  soon  led  to  expect  the  adventitious  aid,  as  a  hale 
man,  accustomed  to  wear  a  staff,  may  imagine  he  cannot  do  without  it, 
until  he  has  thrown  it  aside.  If  it  communicates  a  partial  energy,  it  is 
the  et.ergy  of  a  convulsion.  Its  joy  is  a  phrenzy.  Its  hope  is  a  phan- 
tom. And  all  its  exhibitions  of  changing  passion,  so  many  melancholy 
proofs  of 

"  the  reasonable  soul  run  mad." 

A.ngelic  beings  are  probably  exalted  above  all  human  weaknesses. — 


;i  ■■<:! 


11 
iiii'  (!ir 


m 


35G 


THIi    INFLUENCE    OF    -IRDKNT    SMMITS 


m. 


But  it'  there  be  anything  in  their  survey  ul  oiu  arlions  which  causes 
them  to  weep,  it  is  the  sight  of  a  ihuiiken  lather  in  tlie  domestic  circle. 
Instructed  reason,  and  sound  piety,  have  united  their  voices  in  decry- 
ing the  evils  of  intemperance.  Physicians  have  described  its  efiects  in 
deranging  the  iibsorbent  vessels  of  the  stomach,  and  changing  the  heal- 
thy organization  of  the  system.  Moralists  have  portrayed  its  fatal  influ- 
ence on  the  intellectual  faculties.  Divines  have  pointed  o  it  its  destruc- 
tive powers  on  the  soul.  Poetry,  philosophy  and  science,  have  mourned 
the  numbers  who  have  been  cut  down  by  it.  Common  sense  has  raised 
uj)  its  voice  against  it.     It  is  indeed — 

" a  monster  of  so  frightful  mien, 

That  to  be  haled,  needs  but  to  be  seen.'' 

Like  the  genie  of  Arabic  fable,  it   has  risen  up,  where  it  was  least 

expected,  and  stalked  througli   the  inost  secret  and  the  most  public 

apartments.     And  wherever  it  has  appeared,  it  has  prostrated  the  human 

mind.     It  has  silenced  the  voice  of  elocpience  in  the  halls  of  justice  and 

legislation.     It  has  absorbed  the  brain  of  the  scientific  lecturer.     It  has 

caused  the  sword  to  drop  from  the  hand  of  the  military  leader.     It  has 

stupefied  the  author  in  his  study,  and  the  pastor  in  his  desk.     It  has 

made  the  wife  a  widow  in  her  youth,  and  caused  the  innocent  child  to 

weep  upon  a  father's  grave.     We  dare  not  look  beyond  it.     Hope,  who 

has  attended  the  victim  of  intemperance  through  all  the  changes  of  his 

downward  fortune,  and  not  fonsaken  him  in  any  other  exigency,  has 

forsaken  here.       Earth   had  its  vanities  to  selaee  liim,  but  eternity  has 

none. 

"  Wounds  of  the  heart — care,  ilisappointment,  loss, 
Love,  joy,  and  frieiidshi|)'s  fame,  and  fortune's  cross, 
The  wound  that  mars  the  llesh — the  instant  puin 
That  racks  the  palsied  limb,  or  fover'd  brain, 
All— all  the  woes  that  life  can  fed  or  miss. 
All  have  their  hopes,  cures,  palliatives,  but  this—' 
Tliis  onhi — mortal  ranker  of  tlie  mind, 
Grim  Uolial's  last  attempt  on  human  kind.'' 

If  such,  then,  are  the  elfects  of  ardent  .•spirits  upon  the  condition  of  civi 
lized  man,  wbt)  has  the  precepts  of  instructed  reason  to  enlighten  him, 
and  the  consolatio-is  of  Christianity  to  support  him,  what  must  bo  thiA 
influence  of  intemperate  habits  upon  the  afjorlginal  tribes  .'  I  proposn 
to  ofTi'r  a  few  considerations  upon  this  subject.  And  in  s )  doing  I  dis- 
claim all  intention  of  imputing  to  one  nation  of  the  European  stock,  more 
than  the  olhc; ,  t!K>  luUioniil  crime  of  iiuviiig  introduced  ardent  spirits 
among  tlu;  AnuMJfaii  Iiulinns.  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  Swedes,  Dutch, 
Ilaliaiis,  liiis.sians,  (Jeiiiian.<,  l''rench  ami  JMiglish,  all  eom(>  in  lor  a  share 
of  the  o!)lo|ny.  TlH'y  cacli  broughl  ardent  spiiits  to  the  New  World— 
a  proof,  it  may  be  infi'rred,  of  their  general  use,  as  a  drink  in  Europe,  at 
the  era  of  lh(>  discovery.  Whatever  other  articles  the  first  adventurers 
took  to  operate  upon  the  hopes  and  fears  of  the  new  found  people,  distilled 


ON    THE    INDIAN   IIACE. 


357 


or  formenlod  liquor  appears  to  hiive  been,  in  no  instance,  overlooked  or  for- 
gotlen.  It  would  be  easy  to  sliow  the  use  nuide  ol'  tliem  in  the  West  In- 
dies, and  in  the  southern  part  of  our  hemisphere.  But  our  object  is  cou- 
fiiied  to  the  colonies  planted  in  the  ISorth.  And  in  this  portion  of  tlie 
eo:itinent  the  l^nglish  and  French  have  ben  the  predominating  powers. 
It  had  been  well,  ii"  they  had  predominated  in  everylliin;^  else — if  they 
had  only  been  rivals  lor  courage,  w  isdom  and  dominion,  ii"  they  had 
only  fought  to  ac(iuire  civil  i)ower — conijuered  to  spread  Christianity — 
negotiated  to  piTpetuate  peace.  But  we  have  loo  many  facts  on  record 
to  show,  that  they  were  also  rivals  in  spreading  the  reign  of  intempe- 
rance amongthe  Iniiians  ;  in  gleaning,  with  avaricious  hand,  the  furs  from 
their  lolge:; ;  in  stimulating  them  to  light  in  their  battles,  and  in  leaving 
tliem  to  their  own  fate,  when  tlie  battles  were  ended. 

Xor  do  we,  as  Americans,  aileet  to  have  suddenly  succeeded  to  a  belter 
Glate  (if  feelings  resj)ccting  tiie  natives   than  our  I'^ngliah  ancestry  pos- 
sessed.    They  were  men  of  sterling  enteri;rise  ;  of  undaunted  resolution ; 
of  l;!;h  sentiments  of  religious  and  political  liberty.     And  we  owe  to  them 
and  to  the  peculiar  circumstances  in  which  Providence  placed  us,  all  that 
we  are,  as  a  free  and  a  prosperous  people.     But  while  they  bequeathed  to 
us  fliese  ;:<'ntimenfs  as  ihe  preparatives  of  our  own  national  destiny,  ihey 
also  bequeathed  tons  their  peculiar  opinions  respecting  the  Indian  tribes. 
And  these  opinions  have  been  cherished  with  obstinacy,  even  down  to 
our  own  tiuios.     The  noble  sentiments  of  benevolence  of  the  19th  century 
Iiad  not  da'Aii'-d,  when  we  assumed  our  station  in  the  iii',;.ily  of  nations. 
If  they  were  felt  by  gifted  individuals,  they  were  not  f(!i!  ;■    the  body  of 
the  nation.     Other  duties — thi;  imijerious  duties  fifsiT-exi-i.  nee.  nitional 
poveily,  wasted  resources,  a  doubtful  public  credit,  a  fe.  ,de  [lopulalion, 
harassing  frontier  wars,  pressed  heavily  upon  us.      Bo*  we  have  seen 
all  these  caiis;'s  of  nritional  depression  passing  away,  in  less  than  '  alf  a 
century.     \Vith  them,  it  may  be  hoped,  have  pa-i'U  away,  "verv  obsta- 
eli'  to  the  exercise  of  the  most  enlarg(>d  charily,  jnd  enlightened  pliilan 
thropy,  respecting  the  native  tribes. 

Nationality  is  sometimes  as  well  characterized  by  .small  as  by  great 
thie.gs— by  nam^s,  as  by  customs.  And  this  may  be  oi)served  in  i'.ia 
treatnvn',  of  the  Indians,  so  far  as  respects  the  subject  of  ardent  spir- 
its. Under  the  French  government  they  w^ere  liberally  supplied  v.  ith 
brandy.  T'^'nderthe  English,  with  Jamaica  rum.  Under  the  American,  , 
with  whisky.  Tiiese  constitute  the  fire,  tlie  gall,  and  the  |)oison  ages  of  In- 
(li;in  history.  Under  this  triple  curse  thej'  have  mainiaiu'd  an  e.xistc  neo 
in  the  fiee  of  a  white  population.  }?iit  it  has  been  an  (xislmre  merely. 
Other  nations  are  said  to  have  had  a  goldiii  age.  But  there  has  been  no 
<i;oid.'n  age  for  ihem.  If  there  ever  was  a  state  of  prosperity  among 
them,  which  may  l.e  lik(Mi'>d  to  it,  it  v,';is  wlvn  I'li'ir  camos  were  cri)wned 
with  (eiiq)oral  abundance — when  the  races  of  anim^ds,  jiiip'd  on-I  unfur- 


I     i  1 


nil 


I-  i 


II  li^!^ 


358 


THE   INFLUENCE   OF   ARDENT   SPIRITS 


'I  I' 


red.,  placed  food  and  clothing  within  the  reach  of  all — and  when  they 
knew  no  intoxicating  drink.  To  counterbalance  these  advantages,  they 
were,  however,  subject  to  many  evils.  They  were  then,  as  they  are 
oow,  indolent,  improvident,  revengeful,  warlike.  Bravery,  manual 
strength,  and  eloquence,  were  the  cardinal  virtues.  And  their  own  feuds 
kept  them  in  a  state  of  perpetual  insecurity  and  alarm.  The  increased 
value  given  to  furs,  by  the  arrival  of  Europeans,  created  a  new  era  in 
their  history,  and  accelerated  their  downfall.  It  gave  an  increased  energy 
and  new  object  to  the  chase.  To  reward  their  activity  in  this  employ- 
ment, ardent  spirits  became  the  bounty,  rather  tlmn  the  price.  A  two- 
fold injury  ensued.  The  animals  upon  whose  llesh  they  had  subsisted 
Decame  .scarce,  and  their  own  constitutions  were  undermined  with  the 
subtle  stimulant. 

Historical  writers  do  not  always  agree  :  but  they  coincide  in  their  tes- 
timony respecting  the  absence  of  any  intoxicating  drink  among  the  north- 
ern Indians,  at  the  time  of  the  discovery.  It  is  well  attested  that  the 
Azteeks,  and  other  jVIexican  and  Southern  tribes,  had  their  pulque,  and 
other  intoxicating  drinks,  which  they  possessed  the  art  of  making  from 
various  native  grains  and  fruits.  But  the  art  itself  was  confined,  with 
the  plants  employed,  to  those  latitudes.  And  there  is  no  historical  evi- 
dence to  prove  that  it  was  ever  known  or  practised  by  the  tribes  situated 
north  and  east  of  the  Gulf  of  IMexico.  Dr.  Robertson,  an  able  and  faith- 
ful describer  of  Indian  manners,  fully  concurs  with  the  Jesuit  authors,  in 
saving  that  no  such  beverage  was  known  in  the  north,  until  Europeans 
found  it  for  their  pecuniary  interest  to  supply  it.  After  which,  intoxica- 
tion became  as  common  among  the  northern  as  the  southern  tribes.* 

Three  hundred  and  forty  years  ago  tiicre  was  not  a  white  man  in 
America.  Columbus  discovered  the  West  India  Islands;  but  Cabot  and 
Verrizani  were  the  discoverers  of  North  America.  Cartier  and  Hudson 
followed  in  the  track.  The  first  interview  of  Hudson  with  the  Moheiian 
tribes,  took  place  at  the  mouth  of  the  river  wiiich  now  bears  hi*  natne. 
It  is  remarkable  as  the  scene  of  the  first  Indian  intoxication  amon<f  them. 
He  had  no  sooner  cast  anchor,  and  landed  from  his  boat,  and  passed  a 
friendly  salutation  with  th(!  natives,  than  he  ordered  a  bottle  of  ardent 
spirits  to  be  brought.  To  show  that  he  did  not  intend  to  olTer  lln'm 
what  he  would  not  himself  taste,  an  attendant  poured  him  out  a  cup  of 
the  liquor,  which  he  drank  off.  The  cup  was  then  filled  and  passed  to 
the  Indians.  But  they  merely  snielltid  of  it  and  passed  it  on.  It  had 
nearly  gone  round  the  circle  untasled,  when  one  of  the  chiefs,  bolder 
than  the  rest,  made  a  short  harangue,  saying  it  would  be  disrespectful  to 
return  it  untasted,  and  declaiing  his  inlention  lo  drink  off  the  potion,  if  he 
flhould  be  killed  in  the  attempt.      He  drank  it  off.     Dizziness  and  stu- 


*  Robertson's  History  of  America. 


,-,,.,  ^,..„ 


ON    THE    INDIAN    RACE. 


359 


hen  they 

iges,  they 
they  are 
,  manual 
awn  t'euils 
increased 
ew  era  in 
ed  energy 
i  employ- 
A  two- 
1  subsiiited 
L  with  the 

1  their  tes- 
the  north- 
1  that  the 
lu/^ue,  and 
iking  from 
rnied,  with 
lorical  evi- 
es  situated 
li  and  faith- 
authors,  in 
Europeans 
1,  intoxica- 
ribes.* 
te  man  in 
Cabot  and 
:jd  Hudson 
Mohegan 
hi«  name. 
long  them. 
1  passied  a 
!  of  ardt^nt 
offer  them 
ut  a  cup  of 
.1  passed  to 
in.     It  had 
iefs,  bolder 
3spectful  to 
otioii,  if  he 
ss  and  stu- 


por immediately  ensued.  He  sank  down  and  fell  into  a  sleep — the  sleep 
of  death,  as  his  companions  thought,  liut  in  due  time  he  awoke — de- 
clared the  happiness  he  had  experienced  from  its  effects — asked  again 
for  the  cup,  and  the  whole  assembly  followed  his  example.* 

Nor  was  the  first  meeting  with  the  New  England  tribes  very  dissimi- 
lar. It  took  place  at  Plymouth,  in  1620.  Massasoit,  the  celebrated 
chief  of  the  Pokanokets,  came  t^  visit  the  nev  settlers,  not  long  after 
their  landing.  He  was  received  by  the  English  governor  with  military 
music  and  the  discharge  of  some  muskets.  After  which,  the  Governor 
kissed  his  hand.  Massasoit  then  kissed  him,  and  they  both  sat  down 
together.  "  A  pot  of  strong  water,"  as  the  early  writers  expressed  it, 
was  then  ordered,  from  which  both  drank.  The  chief,  in  his  simplicity, 
drank  so  great  a  draught  that  it  threw  him  into  a  violent  perspiration 
during  the  remainder  of  the  interview,  f 

The  first  formal  interview  of  the  French  with  the  Indians  of  the  St. 
Lawrence  is  also  worthy  of  being  referred  to,  as  it  appears  to  have  been 
the  initial  step  in  vitiating  the  taste  of  the  Indians,  by  the  introduction  of 
a  foreign  drink.  It  took  place  in  1035,  on  board  one  of  Cartier's  ships, 
lying  at  anchor  near  the  Island  of  Orleans,  forty-nine  years  before  the 
arri\  al  of  Amidas  and  Bailow  on  the  coast  of  Virginia.  Donnaconna,  a 
chief  who  is  courteously  styled  the  "Lord  of  Agouhanna,"  visited  the 
ship  with  twelve  canoes.  Ten  of  these  he  had  stationed  at  a  distance, 
and  with  the  other  two,  containing  sixteen  men,  he  approached  the  ves- 
sels. When  he  drew  near  the  headmost  vessel,  he  began  to  utter  an 
earnest  addre.ss,  accompimied  with  violent  gesticulation.  Cartier  hailed 
his  approach  in  a  friendly  manner.  He  had,  the  year  before,  captured 
two  Indians  on  the  Gulf  of  St.  Lawrence,  and  he  now  addressed  the  chief 
through  ll.dr  interpretation.  Donnaconna  listened  to  his  native  lan- 
guage Wiwi  delight,  and  was  so  much  pleased  with  the  recital  they  gave, 
that  he  requested  Cartier  to  reach  his  arm  over  the  side  of  the  vessel, 
that  he  might  kiss  it.  Ho  was  not  content  with  this  act  of  salutation, 
but  fondled  it,  by  drawing  the  arm  gently  around  his  neck.  His  watch- 
ful caution  did  not,  however,  permit  him  to  venture  on  board.  Cartier, 
willing  to  give  him  a  proof  of  his  confidence,  then  descended  into  the 
chiePs  canoe,  and  ordered  bread  and  wine  to  be  brought.  They  ate  and 
drank  togothcT,  all  the  Indians  present  participating  in  the  banquet, 
which  appears  to  have  been  terminated  in  a  temperate  manner.J 

But  like  most  temperate  beginnings  in  the  use  of  spirits,  it  soon  led  to 
intefiiperance  in  its  most  repulsive  forms.  The  taste  enkindled  by  wine, 
was  soon  fed  with  brandy,  and  spread  among  the  native  bands  like  a 
wildfire.      It  gave  birth  to  disease,  discord,  and  crime,  in  their  most 

*  HeckeweMer's  Account  of  the  Indians, 
t  Purchas'  rilgrims,  Part  iv.,  book  x. 
i  Hackluyt's  Voyages. 


I'  '  ''I 


360 


THE    INFLUENCE    OF   ARDENT    SPIHITS 


shocking;  forms.  Too  late  tlic  govcnunont  and  tlio  clergy  saw  their 
error,  ami  attciiipted  to  arrost  it ;  but  it  was  too  dooply  seated  among 
their  own  countrymen,  as  well  as  among  the  Indians.  Every  effort 
proved  unsuccessful  ;  and  the  evil  went  on  until  the  C'anadas  were 
finally  transferred  to  the  British  crown,  with  this  "  mortal  canker" 
burning  upon  the  northern  tribes.  Those  who  have  leisure  and  curiosity 
to  turn  to  the  early  writers,  will  see  abundant  evidence  of  its  deep  and 
wide-spread  influence.  It  became  the  ready  means  of  rousing  to  action 
a  people  averse  to  long  continued  exertion  of  any  kind.  It  was  the 
reward  of  the  chase.  It  was  the  price  of  blood.  It  was  the  great  bar  to 
the  successful  introduction  of  Christianity.  It  U  impossible  that  the 
Indian  shouK!  both  drink  and  pray.  It  was  imi.u.s.si!)lt>  then,  and  it  is 
impossible  now:  and  the  missionary  who  entered  the  forest,  with  the 
Bible  and  crucifix  in  one  hand,  and  the  bottle  in  the  other,  might  say, 
with  the  Roman  soliloiiuist,  who  deliberated  on  self-murder, 

"My  bane  and  antic'  'e  are  both  before  kw  : 
While  this  inrorRi.s  iiie  I  shall  novn  (lie. 
This  in  a  moment  brings  me  to  my  cml." 

National  rivalry,  between  the  ICnglisli  and  French  governments,  gave 
a  character  of  extreme  bitterness  to  the  feelings  of  the  Indians, and  served 
to  promote  the  passion  for  strong  drink.  It  added  to  the  horrors  of  war, 
and  accumulated  the  miseries  of  peace.  It  was  always  a  struggle  be- 
tween these  nations  which  should  wield  the;  Indian  power  ;  and,  so  far 
as  religion  went,  it  was  a  struggle  betwei-n  the  Catholic  and  Protestant 
tenets.  It  was  a  power  which  both  hud,  in  a  measure,  the  means  of 
putting  into  motion  :  but  neither  had  i]\o  coinphte  means  of  controlling  it, 
if  we  concede  to  them  the  jtcrfcct  will.  It  would  have  mitigated  the 
evil,  i*'this  struggle  fur  mastering  the  Indian  mind  had  terminated  with  a 
sta'-j  of  war,  but  it  was  kept  up  during  the  feverish  intermissions  of 
peace.  I'ulilical  influence  was  the  ever-present  weight  in  each  side  of  the 
scale.  Religion  threw  in  her  aid  ;  but  it  was  trade,  the  possession  of 
the  fur  trade,  that  .'■  ve  tl .'  preponderating  weight.  And  there  is  noth- 
ing in  th(!  history  ^ji'  this  lualry,  from  ihi;  arrival  of  Ruberval  to  the 
death  of  Monlcalr.,,  that  had  so  pern^ra;'  ntly  pernicious  an  influence  as 
tiie  .sanction  whicli  'liis  trade  gave  to  the  use  of  ardent  si)irils. 

We  can  but  glance  at  this  subject ;  but  it  is  a  glanc(>  at  the  track  of  a 
tornado  Destruction  lies  in  its  course.  The  history  of  the  fur  trade  is 
closely  intiMwoveii  with  ihe  history  of  intemperance  among  llie  Indians. 
We  know  not  how  to  efleet  the  separation.  Look  at  it  in  what  era  you 
will,  the  barter  in  ardent  spirits  constitutes  a  prominent  feature.  From 
Jamestown  to  Plymouth — from  the  island  of  Maidiattan  to  the  Lake  of 
the  Hills,  the  trailic  was  introduced  at  the  earliest  periods.  And  we 
cannot  now  put  our  finger  on  the  muj),  to  indicate  a  .spot  where  ardent 
spirits  is  not  known  to  the  natives.     Is  it  at  the  mouth  of  the  Columbia, 


;aw  their 
(1  among 
cry  effort 
das  were 
canker" 
1  curiosity 
deep  and 
r  to  action 
t  was  the 
rcat  har  to 
f  that  the 
,  and  it  is 
,  v'ith  the 
niglU  say, 


aents,  gave 
,  and  served 
ors  of  war, 
;tru;^glc  be- 
and,  so  far 
Protestant 

means  of 
introHing  it, 
lijfaled  the 
lated  with  a 
missions  of 

side  of  the 
osscssion  of 
iTo  is  noth- 
ival  to  the 
uiluenco  as 

'  track  of  a 
fur  trade  is 
'.u;  Indians, 
hat  era  you 
\n\  From 
the  l.ake  of 
And  we 
lere  ardent 
Columbia, 


ON   THE    INDIAN   RACE. 


36J 


the  sources  of  the  Multnomah,  or  the  Rio  del  Nordc — the  passes  of  the 
Kocky  Mountains  on  Peace  Hivor,  or  ilie  shores  of  the  Arctic  Sea?  it  is 
known  at  all  these  places.  The  natives  can  call  it  by  name,  and  they 
place  a  value  on  its  possession.  We  do  not  wish  to  convey  the  idea  that 
it  is  abundant  at  these  remote  places.  We  have  reason  to  believe  itis  sel- 
dom seen.  But  we  also  believe  that  in  proportion  as  it  is  scarce — in  pro- 
portion as  the  quantity  is  small,  and  the  occasion  of  its  issue  rare,  so  is 
the  pric!>  of  it  in  .sale,  and  the  value  of  it  in  gift,  enhanced.  And  just  so 
Car  iiH  it  is  used,  it  is  pernicious  in  effect,  unnecessary  in  practice,  unwise 
in  policy. 

The  I'^rench,  who  have  endeared  themselves  so  much  in  the  afP-ctions 
of  the  Indians,  were  earlier  in  Canada  than  the  English  upon  the  United 
States'  coast.  Cartier's  treat  of  wine  and  bread  to  the  Irotpiois  of  the 
Si.  Lawrence,  happened  eighty-five  years  before  the  landing  of  the  Pil- 
grims. They  were  also  earlier  to  perceive  the  evils  of  an  unrestrained 
trade,  in  which  nothing  was  stipulated,  and  nothing  prohibited.  To  pre- 
vent its  irregularities,  licenses  were  granted  by  the  French  government 
to  individuals,  on  the  payment  of  a  price.  It  was  a  boon  to  superannu- 
ated odle-rs,  and  the  number  was  limited.  In  ICS"),  the  number  was 
twenty- five.  But  the  remedy  proved  worse  than  the  disease.  These 
licenses  became  negotiable  paper.  They  were  .-sold  from  hand  to  hand, 
and  gave  birth  to  a  trathc,  which  assumed  the  same  character  in  tempo- 
ral afiliirs,  that  "  indulgences"  did  in  spiritual,  i'liey  were,  in  effect, 
licenses  to  commit  every  species  of  wrong,  for  those  who  got  them  at 
•ast,  were  generally  persons  under  the  government  of  no  higli  standard 
of  moral  responsibility  ;  and  as  they  may  bo  sujiposed  to  have  paid  well 
for  them,  they  were  sure  to  make  it  up  by  excessive  exactions  upon  the 
Indians.  Courier  dit  bois,  was  the  term  first  applied  to  them.  Merchant 
voyarjcur^  was  the  appellation  at  a  sui)sequent  period.  But  whatever 
they  were  called,  one  spirit  actuated  them — the  spirit  of  acquiring  wealth 
by  driving  a  gainful  traffic  with  an  ignorant  people,  and  for  this  purpose 
ardent  spirits  was  but  too  well  ada[)ted.  They  transported  it,  along  with 
articles  of  necessity,  up  long  rivers,  and  over  difficult  portages.  And 
when  they  had  rcarhed  the  headers  of  theUpp'T  Lakes,  or  the  banks  of 
the  Sasketchawine,  they  were  too  fiir  removed  iVom  the  influence  of 
courts,  both  judicial  and  ecclesiastical,  tiv  be  in  much  «'read  of  them. 
Feuds,  strifes,  and  murders  ensui^d.  Crime  strode  vmeheeked  through 
the  land,  h^very  Indian  trader  b"came  a  legislator  ami  a  judge.  His 
word  was  not  only  a  law,  hut  it  w.is  a  law  wliieh  possesses!  the  property 
of  undergoing  as  ninny  rrnivds  and  tnu(:itions  as  the  interest,  tlu'  pride, 
or  the  passieii  ni"  tli"  individird  r m'lM'ed  (^xju'dient.  If  wealth  was  ac- 
cumulated, it  is  ;!')?  iiit"i,di'(!  to  inf 'r  tlr.il  the  pressing  wants  of  the  In- 
dial 


IVII 


"!l 


w 


IS  were  not 


Ii'v-m! — -tb:i'  the  trad  ■  v.ns  nut  a  very  acceptable  and 
importa'il  ore  to  tln'i.i.  aiid  tli,;t  great  p"iil  ami  ■  sprnse  were  not  eneoun- 


i-k 


362 


THE    INFLUENCE    OF    ARDENT    SPIRITS 


tered,  and  a  high  degree  of  enterprise  displayed  in  its  prosecution.  But 
it  is  contended,  that  if  real  wants  were  relieved,  artificial  ones  were  cre- 
ated— that  if  it  substituted  the  gun  for  the  bow,  and  shrouds  and  blan- 
kets in  the  place  of  the  more  expensive  clothing  of  beaver  skins,  it  also 
substkuted  ardent  spirits  for  water — intoxication  for  sobriety — disease 
for  health. 

Those  who  entertain  the  opinion  that  the  fall  of  Quebec,  celebrated  in 
England  and  America  as  a  high  military  acliievcment,  and  the  conse- 
quent surrender  of  Canada,  produced  any  very  important  improvement 
in  this  state  of  things,  forget  that  the  leading  principles  and  desires  of  the 
human  heart  are  alike  in  all  nations,  acting  under  like  circumstances. 
The  desire  of  amassing  wealth — the  thirst  for  exercising  power — the 
uride  of  information  over  ignorance — the  power  of  vicious  over  virtuous 
principles,  are  not  confined  to  particular  eras,  nations,  or  latitudes.  They 
belong  to  mankind,  and  they  will  be  pursued  with  a  zeal  as  irrespective 
of  equal  and  exact  justice,  wherever  they  are  not  restrained  by  the  enno- 
bling maxims  of  Christianity. 

Whoever  feels  interested  in  looking  back  into  this  period  of  our  com- 
mercial Indian  affairs,  is  recommended  to  peruse  the  published  statistical 
and  controversial  volumes,  growing  out  of  the  Earl  of  Selkirk's  scheme.i 
of  colonization,  and  to  the  proceedings  of  the  North  West  Company. 
This  iron  monopoly  grew  up  out  of  private  adventure.  Such  golden 
accounts  were  brought  out  of  the  country  by  the  Tods,  the  Frobishers, 
and  the  M'Tavishes,  and  M'Gillvrays,  who  first  visited  it,  that  every 
bold  man,  who  had  either  talents  or  money,  rushed  to  the  theatre  of 
action.  The  boundary  which  had  been  left  to  the  French,  as  the  limit 
of  trade,  was  soon  passed.  The  Missinipi,  Athaba.'iCa,  Fort  Chipewyan, 
Slave  lake,  Mackenzie's  and  Copper  Mine  Rivers,  the  Unjigah  and  the 
Oregon,  were  reached  in  a  few  years.  All  Arctic  America  was  penetrated. 
The  British  government  is  much  indebted  to  Scottish  enterprise  for  the  ex- 
tension of  its  power  and  resources  in  this  quarter.  But  while  we  admire  the 
zeal  and  boldness  with  which  the  limits  of  the  trade  were  extended,  we 
regret  that  a  belief  in  the  necessity  of  using  ardent  spirits  caused  them  to 
be  introduced,  in  any  quantity,  among  the  North  West  tribes. 

Other  regions  have  been  explored  to  spread  the  light  of  the  gospel. 
This  was  traversed  to  extend  the  reign  of  intemperanci;,  and  to  prove 
that  the  love  of  gain  was  so  strongly  implanted  in  the  breast  of  the  white 
man,  as  to  carry  him  over  regions  of  ice  and  snow,  woods  *nd  waters, 
where  the  natives  had  only  been  intruded  on  by  the  Musk  Ox  and  the 
Polar  bear.  Nobody  will  deem  it  too  much  to  say,  that  wherever  the 
current  of  the  fur  trade  set,  the  nations  were  intoxicated,  demoralized, 
depopulated.  The  terrible  scourge  of  the  small  pox,  which  broke  out 
in  the  country  north  west  of  Lake  Superior  in  17S2,  was  scarcely  more 
fatal  to  the  natives,  though  more  rapid  and  striking  in  its  effects,  than  the 


WM 


ON   THE    INDIAN   RACE. 


363 


1.     But 

ere  cre- 
nd  blan- 
I,  it  also 
-disease 

brated  in 
e  conse- 
rovement 
res  of  the 
mstances. 
iwer — the 
r  virtuous 
es.   They 
respective 
r  the  eiino- 

f  our  com- 

1  statistical 

;'s  schemes 
Company. 

uch  golden 

Frobishers, 
that  every 
theatre  of 
as  the  limit 
jhipewyan, 
;ah  and  the 
penetrated, 
e  for  the  ex- 
|e  admire  the 
itended,  we 
ised  them  to 

3S. 

the  gospel, 
nd  to  prove 
lof  the  white 
1  and  waters, 
I  Ox  and  the 
vhcrcver  the 
llenioralized, 
\h  broke  out 
tartely  more 
lets,  than  the 


power  of  ardent  spirits.  Nor  did  it  produce  so  great  a  moral  aflliction. 
For  those  who  died  of  the  varioloid,  were  spared  the  death  of  ebriety. 
Furs  were  gleaned  with  an  iron  hand,  and  rum  was  given  out  with  an  iron 
heart.  There  was  no  remedy  for  the  rigors  c  f  the  trade  ;  and  there  was  no 
appeal.  Beaver  was  sought  with  a  thirst  of  gain  as  great  as  that  which 
carried  Cortez  to  Mexico,  and  Pizarro  to  Peru.  It  had  deadened  the 
ties  of  humanity,  and  cut  asunder  the  cords  of  private  faith.*  Like  the 
Spaniard  in  his  treatment  of  Capolicon,  when  the  latter  had  given  him 
the  house  full  of  gold  for  his  ransom,  he  was  himself  basely  executed. 
So  the  northern  chief,  when  he  had  given  his  all,  gave  himself  as  the  vic- 
tim at  last.  He  was  not,  however,  consumed  at  the  stake,  but  at  the 
bottle.  The  sword  of  his  executioner  was  spirits — his  gold,  beaver  shins. 
And  no  mines  of  the  orecious  metals,  which  the  world  has  ever  produced, 
have  probably  been  more  productive  of  wealth,  than  the  fur-yielding 
regions  of  North  America. 

But  while  the  products  of  the  chase  have  yielded  wealth  to  the  white 
man,  they  have  produced  misery  to  the  Indian.  The  latter,  suffering  for 
the  means  of  subsistence,  like  the  child  in  the  parable,  had  asked  for 
bread,  and  he  received  it ;  but,  with  it,  he  received  a  scorpion.  And  it 
is  the  sting  of  the  scorpion,  that  has  been  raging  among  the  tribes  for 
more  than  two  centuries,  causing  sickness,  death,  and  depopulation  in  its 
track.     It  is  the  venom  of  this  sting,  that  has  proved  emphatically 

"  the  blight  of  human  bliss ! 

Curse  to  all  states  of  man,  but  most  to  this." 

Let  me  not  be  mistaken,  in  ascribing  effects  disproportionate  to  their  cause, 
or  in  overlooking  advantages  which  have  brought  along  in  their  train,  a 
striking  evil.  I  am  no  admirer  of  that  sickly  philosophy,  which  looks 
back  upon  a  state  of  nature  as  a  state  of  innocence,  and  which  cannot 
appreciate  the  benefits  the  Indian  race  have  derived  from  the  discovery 
of  this  portion  of  the  world  by  civilized  and  Christian  nations.  But 
while  I  would  not,  on  the  one  hand,  conceal  my  sense  of  the  advantages, 
temporal  and  spiritual,  which  hinge  upon  this  discovery,  I  would  not,  on 
the  other,  disguise  the  evils  which  intemperance  has  caused  among 
them  ;  nor  cease  to  hold  it  up,  to  the  public,  as  a  great  and  destroying 
evil,  which  was  early  introduced — which  has  spread  extensively — which 
is  in  active  operation,  and  which  threatens  yet  more  disastrous  conse> 
quences  to  this  unfortunate  race. 

Writers  have  not  been  wanting,  who  are  prone  to  lay  but  little  stress 
upon  the  destructive  influence  of  ardent  spirits,  in  diminishing  the  native 
population,  and  who  have  considered  its  effects  as  trifling  in  comparison 
to  the  want  of  food,  and  the  enhanced  price  created  by  this  want.f    The 

*  The  murder  of  Wadin,  the  cold-blooded  assassination  of  Keveny,and  the  shoot* 
jng  of  Semple,  are  appealed  to,  as  justifying  the  force  of  this  remark. 

t  The  North  American  Review.  Sanford's  History  of  the  United  States,  before 
the  Revoluticn. 


\.i\,M 


3f)4 


TIIR    INFMrKNOE    OF   ARDENT   SmUTS 


nbuiuliinic  or  sran-ily  of  food  is  u  j»riiici|il(>  in  political  ti")ir.»n',y,  which 
in  assiiiin't!  as  llic  piiiiiary  causti  ol'i!f|i()inilatiini.  Ami,  us  sui'li,  wttuee 
no  reason  (o  (jm-slion  ils  sDUiuiiicss.  Il'llic  vaiiic  of  lalior,  tlic  price  of 
ciulliiii,;  and  oilier  ncn'ssary  eonnnodilit's,  can  l)c  rcfcni'd  to  I'le  varyini' 
prices  of  vi  i^i'lalili!  and  animal  food,  sw  do  nut  siu;  Unit  the  fact  of  u 
people's  lieiii.^  eivilized  or  uncivilized,  slioidd  invaliilatc  '  e  principle!; 
and  when  we  turn  our  eyes  upon  tiie  forest  \vc  see  tliat  it  does  not.  A 
pound  of  heaviT,  wludi  in  IT.'JO,  wlieu  animal  food  was  abundant,  wiis 
worth  here-  ahout  a  French  crown,  is  now,  win  ii  food  is  scarce  and 
til  ar,  ^' oitli  from  five  to  six  dollars;  and  consecpiently,  one  pound  of 
beascr  noir  will  prttcure  as  mucli  food  and  clothing;  as  live  pounds  of  tlio 
like  qiuility  of  beuver  then.  It  is  the  failures  of  tin;  race  of  furri-d  ani- 
mals, and  the  want  of  industry  in  huntinL;  thi'ni,that  operate  to  produce 
depopul.itiiui.  And  what,  wi;  may  ask,  has  so  powerful  an  ( lH'ct  in 
deslroyii);;'  the  energii'S  of  the  liunter,  as  the  vice  of  intempeiaiicc  ? 
Slupi  fvinj;  his  mind,  and  iMiervatinj;;  his  body,  it  leaves  liim  neither  the 
vigor  to  provide  for  his  temj)orary  wants,  nor  tlw  disposition  to  inepnre 
info  those  w  hich  rei^ard  eternity.  His  liitural  atlections  are  blunted, and 
all  the.  sterner  and  aolder  (jualities  of  tin-  Indiiin  miml  prostrated,  llis 
family  are  iicrli^cted.  They  first  become  objects  of  pity  to  our  citizens, 
and  then  of  i!i.,<;ust.  The  want  of  wbolesonK*  food  and  comfortable 
.'lo'luM;.';  ]>;•  I  luce  disease.  He  falls  at  last  himself,  the.  victim  of  disease, 
su|,v'rin(luced  from  drinking. 

Such  \.<  no  exaggerated  [jicture  of  the  Indian,  who  is  in  a  situation  to 
rontract  the  iiabil  of  intemjierance.  And  it  is  only  within  the  last  year 
or  eigliteen  months — it  is  only  since  tlu;  o[)eration  t)f  Temperance  princi- 
ples has  been  felt  in  this  remote  place,  that  scenes  of  this  kind  have  he- 
come  unfrequent,  and  have  almost  ceased  in  our  village,  and  in  our  set- 
tlement. And  when  W(>  look  abroad  io  other  places,  and  observe  the 
sj)read  of  temperance  in  the  wide  area  from  Louisiana  to  Main(>,  we  may 
almost  fancy  we  behold  the  accomplishment  of  Indian  fable.  It  is  related, 
on  the  best  authority,  that  among  the  extravagances  of  Spanish  enter- 
prise, which  characterized  the  era  of  the  discovery  of  America,  the  na- 
tives liad  reported  the  existence  of  a  fountain  in  the  interior  of  oik;  of  the 
islands,  possessed  of  such  magical  virtues,  that  whoever  bathed  in  its 
waters  would  be  restored  to  the  bloom  of  youth  and  the  vigor  of  man- 
liood.  In  search  of  this  wonderful  fountain  historians  atnrm.that  Ponce 
de  Leon  and  his  followers  ranged  the  island.  They  only,  howt^ver,  dn-w 
upon  themselves  the  charge  of  credulity.  May  wo  not  suppose  this  tale 
of  the  salutary  fountain  to  he  an  Indian  allegory  of  temj)erance  ?  It 
will,  at  least,  admit  of  this  application.  And  let  us  rejoice  that,  in  the 
era  of  temperance,  W(!  hav  found  tlie  spring  which  will  restore  bloom 
to  the  cheeks  of  the  young  man,  and  the  panacea  that  will  remove  dis- 
ease from  Ctic  old. 


i\»n\y,  which 
such,  wi'uee 

tlif  i)iice  of 
I)  l\ic  viirjiug 
till'  Tiicl  of  a 

r  in'mi-iplo ; 
ilors  not.  A 
liiiiiiliiut,  was 
is  sciiiiHi  ami 
one   in.und  iif 

|)()llllll^'  1)1' till) 

)l"  I'lintHl  ani-     , 
\U'.  to  produce 

I  iiii  t'lU'ct  in 
nli'inliiTancc  ? 
iin  lu'itlit'i"  tlie 
lion  to  iiuiuire 
i-el.luntfil,aiid 
•ostialinl.     His 
to  our  citi/iMis, 
nd  conifortaWi) 
ctim  of  disease, 

II  a  situation  to 
in  the  last  year 

porance  princi- 

vinil  have  be- 

and  in  our  set- 

nd  observe  the 

Maine,  we  may 

It  is  related, 

Spanish  cnter- 
nierica,  the  na- 
or  of  oni!  of  the 
r  bathed  in  its 
e  vii:;or  of  man- 
inn,  that  Ponce 

however,  drew 
luppose  this  tale 
mperance  ?     It 

lice  that,  in  the 
11  restore  bloom 

tvill  remove  dis- 


ON    TIIR    INDIAN    HACR. 


3G5 


When  we  consider  the  eircfls  which  our  own  huinble  efTorts  as  inha- 
bitants of  a  distant  post  liavi'  pi'odu<'i'd  in  this  lulmr  of  Immanily,  hnvo 
we  not  every  cnconrai^rineiit  to  perscvrrc  ?  Is  it  not  an  iti'oit  saneiioned 
by  the  n()i)!est  adi'elions  of  our  nature — by  th(r  soundest  principli's  of 
pliilanthidpy — by  the  hiijhest  aspirations  of  Christian  bciu'voh'ni'c  ?  Is 
it  not  tlie  work  of  patriots  as  well  as  (christians  ?  of  f^ood  eitizi-ns  as  well 
IIS  ;^i)()(l  iH'i'^lihors  ?  Is  it  not  a  hi;^li  and  iinpcrious  ihity  to  rid  our  land 
of  the  foul  stain  of  iiiti'm|)rraiice  ?  Is  it  aihity  tooji  id  for  us  to  accom- 
plish ?       Is  there  aiiythini;  unreasonaiile  in  tin;  voUin      "  ohiif^atioiiS  by 


which  we  art!  bound  ?  Shall  we  lose  property  or  f 
in  the  cause  of  temperanct^  r  Will  the  debtor  be 
debts,  or  the  creditor  less  abb;  to  colk-ct  them  ?     Shall  we  iiijur(!  iiiai 


II  by  laboring 
alile  lo  pay  hiii 


woman  or  child,  by  dashinj;  away  th»!  cup  of  intoxication  ?  Shall  wo 
incur  the  charge  of  bein!^  denominated  fools  or  madiuen  r  Shall  we  vio- 
late any  principles  of  morality,  or  any  of  tin;  maxims  of  Christianity  ? 


Shall 


we  run  the  risk  ol  (uminishin;^  tiu!  happiness  ol  ofliers,  or  putting 


)f  ofh 


our  own  in  jeojiardy  ?     Finally,  shall  we  injure  man — shall  we  oflend 
(Jod  ? 

If  neither  of  these  evils  will  result — if  the  hif^hest  principles  of  virtue 
and  happiness  sanction  the  measure — if  learning  applauds  it,  and  religion 
ai)i)roves  it — if  good  must  result  from  its  success,  and  injury  cannot 
accrue  from  its  failure,  what  further  motive  need  we  to  impel  us  onward, 
to  devote  our  best  faculties  in  the  cause,  and  neither  to  liilnt  nor  rest 
till  the  luodern  hydra  of  hitemperance  bo  expelled  from  our  country  ? 


VENERABLE  INDIAN  CHIEF. 

The  Cattaraugus  (N.  Y.)  Whig,  of  a  late  date,  mentions  that  Gov. 
Blacksnalce,  the  Grand  Sachem  of  the  Indian  nation,  was  recently  in  that 
place.  lb;  resides  on  the  Alleghany  Reservation,  about  twenty  miles 
from  tlu!  village  ;  is  the  successor  of  Corn  Planter,  as  chief  of  the  Six 
Nations — a  nephew  of  Joseph  Brant,  and  uncle  of  the  celebrated  Red 
Jacket.  He  was  born  near  Cayuga  Lake  in  1749,  being  now  ninety-six 
years  of  age.  lie  was  in  the  battle  of  Fort  Stanwix,  Wyoming,  &c.,  and 
was  a  warm  friend  of  Gen.  Washington  during  the  Revolution.  He  was 
in  Washington's  camp  forty  days  at  the  close  of  the  Revolution — was 
appointed  chief  by  him,  and  now  wears  suspended  from  his  neck  a  beau 
tiful  silver  medal  presented  to  him  by  Gen.  Washington,  bearing  dato 
1796. 


II 


■> 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-3) 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


Hiotogra|iiic 

Sdences 

Corporalion 


23  WEST  MAIN  STtCET 

WiBSTH.N.Y.  14SI0 

(716)  •72-4503 


<^ 


4^    4^'\  WrS 


? 


^* 


4^\ 


FATE  OF  THE  RED  RACE  IN  AMERICA: 

THE     POLICY     PURSUED    TOWARDS    THEM   BY    GOVERNMENT,    AND 

THE   PRESENT   CONDITION    OF   THE    TRIBES   WHO   HAVE 

REMOVED   WEST    OF   THE   MISSISSIPPI.* 

The  removal  of  the  Indian  Tribes  within  our  State  boundaries,  to  the 
west  of  the  Mississippi,  and  their  present  condition  and  probable  ulti- 
mate fate,  have  been  the  topic  of  such  frequent  speculation,  misunder- 
standing, and  may  we  not  add,  misrepresentation,  withiu  a  few  years 
past,  both  at  home  and  abroad,  that  we  suppose  some  notice  of  them, 
and  particularly  of  the  territory  they  occupy,  and  the  result,  thus  far, 
of  their  experiment  in  self-government,  drawn  from  authentic  sources, 
may  prove  not  unacceptable  to  the  public. 

The  nomadic  and  hunter  states  of  society  nv:ver  embraced  within 
themselves  the  elements  of  perpetuity.  They  have  ever  existed,  in- 
deed, like  a  vacuum  in  the  system  of  nature,  which  is  at  every  moment 
in  peril,  and  subject  to  be  filled  up  and  destroyed  by  the  in-rushing  of 
the  surrounding  element.  Civilisation  is  that  element,  in  relation  to 
non -agricultural  and  barbaric  tribes,  and  the  only  question  with  respect 
to  their  continuance  as  distinct  communities  has  been,  how  long  they 
could  resist  its  influence,  and  at  what  particular  era  this  influence 
should  change,  improve,  undermine,  or  destroy  them.  It  is  proved  by 
history,  that  two  essentially  different  states  of  society,^  with  regard  to 
art  and  civilisation,  cannot  both  prosperously  exist  together,  at  the  same 
time.  The  one  which  is  in  the  ascendant  will  absorb  and  destroy  the 
other.  A  wolf  and  a  lamb  are  not  more  antagonistical  in  the  system 
of  organic  being,  than  civilisation  and  barbarism,  in  the  great  ethno- 
logical impulse  of  man's  diffusion  over  the  globe.  In  this  impulse,  bar- 
barism may  temporarily  triumph,  as  we  see  it  has  done  by  many  striking 
examples  in  the  history  of  Asia  and  Europe.  But  such  triumphs  have 
been  attended  with  this  remarkable  result,  that  they  have,  in  the  end, 
reproduced  the  civilisation  which  they  destroyed.  Such,  to  quote  no 
other  example,  was  the  eflfect  of  the  prostration  of  the  Roman  type  of 
civilisation  by  the  warlike  and  predatory  tribes  of  Northern  Europe. 
Letters  and  Christianity  were  both  borne  down,  for  a  while,  by  this  irre« 
■istible  on-rush  ;  but  they  were  thereby  only  the  more  deeply  implanted 


•  Democratic  Review,  1844. 


366 


MERICA: 


IRNMBNT,    AND 

HO   HAVE 

l> 

>undarie8,  to  the 
[  probable  ulti- 
tion,  misunder- 
lii.  a  few  years 
lotice  of  them, 
result,  thus  far, 
hentic  sources, 

tnbraced  within 
ver  existed,  in- 
t  every  moment 
e  in-rushing  of 
,  in  relation  to 
on  with  respect 
how  long  they 
i  this  influence 
It  is  proved  by 
,  with  regard  to 
ber,  at  the  same 
and  destroy  the 
I  in  the  system 
le  great  ethno- 
lis  impulse,  bar- 
y  many  striking 
triumphs  have 
ive,  in  the  end, 
;h,  to  quote  no 
Roman  type  of 
rthern  Europe, 
lile,  by  this  irre- 
eeply  implanted 


366 


'  "Vi  f  ■  'S. 


«".•■ 


INDIAN  POLIOV. 


367 


!n  the  stratum  of  preparing  civilisation  ;  and  in  due  time,  like  the  grain 
that  rots  before  it  reproduces,  sprang  up  with  a  vigor  and  freshness, 
which  is  calculated  to  be  enduring,  and  to  fill  the  globe. 

Civilisation  may  be  likened  to  an  absorbent  body,  placed  in  contact 
with  an  anti-absorbent,  for  some  of  the  properties  of  which  it  has 
strong  affinities.  It  will  draw  these  latter  so  completely  out,  that,  to 
use  a  strong  phrase,  it  may  be  said  to  eat  them  up.  Civilisation  is  found 
to  derive  some  of  the  means  of  its  perfect  development  from  letters  and 
the  arts,  but  it  cannot  permanently  exist  without  the  cultivation  of  the 
soil.  It  seems  to  have  been  the  fundamental  principle  on  which  the 
species  were  originally  created,  that  they  should  derive  their  sustenance 
and  means  of  perpetuation  from  this  industrial  labor.  Wherever  agri- 
cultural tribes  have  placed  themselves  in  juxtaposition  to  hunters  and 
erratic  races,  they  have  been  found  to  withdraw  from  the  latter  the 
means  of  their  support,  by  narrowing  the  limits  of  the  forest  and  plains, 
upon  the  wild  animals  of  which,  both  carnivorous  and  herbivorous,  hun- 
ters subsist.  When  these  have  been  destroyed,  the  grand  resources  of 
these  hunters  and  pursuers  have  disappeared.  Wars,  the  introduction  of 
foreign  articles  or  habits  of  injurious  tendency,  may[accelerate  the  period 
of  their  decline — a  result  which  is  still  further  helped  forward  by  inter- 
nal dissensions,  and  the  want  of  that  political  foresight  by  which  civil 
nations  exist.  But  withoi.w  these,  and  by  the  gradual  process  of  the 
narrowing  down  of  their  hunting  grounds,  and  the  conversion  of  the 
dominions  of  the  bow  and  arrow  to  those  of  the  plough,  this  result 
must  inevitably  ensue.  There  is  no  principle  of  either  permanency  or 
prosperity  in  the  savage  state. 

It  is  a  question  of  curious  and  philosophic  interest,  however,  to  ob- 
serve the  varying  and  very  unequal  effects,  which  different  types  of 
civilisation  have  had  upon  the  wild  hordes  of  men  with  whom  it  l.is 
come  into  contact.  And  still  more,  perhaps,  to  trace  the  original  effici 
ency,  or  effeminacy  of  the  civil  type,  in  the  blood  of  predominating 
races,  who  have  been  characterized  by  it.  In  some  of  the  European 
stocks  this  type  has  remained  nearly  stationary  since  it  reached  the 
chivalric  era.  In  others,  it  had  assumed  a  deeply  commercial  tone,  and 
confined  itself  greatly  to  the  drawing  forth,  from  the  resources  of  new 
countries,  those  objects  which  invigorate  trade.  There  is  no  stock, 
having  claims  to  a  generic  nationality,  in  which  the  principle  of  progress 
has,  from  the  outset,  been  so  strongly  marked,  as  in  those  hardy,  brare 
and  athletic  tribes  in  the  north  of  Europe,  for  whom  the  name  of  Teu- 
tons conveys,  perhaps,  a  more  comprehensive  meaning,  than  the  com- 
paratively later  one  of  Saxons.  The  object  of  this  race  appears  con- 
tinually to  be,  and  to  have  been,  to  do  more  than  has  previously  been 
done  ;  to  give  diffusion  and  comprehension  to  designs  of  improrement, 
and  thus,  by  perpetually  putting  forth  new  efforts,  on  the  globe,  to  carry 


ij 

P 
i 

1 

i  j 

i 

i  ) 

i 

i 

ii 

i 

* 

'1 

!ii' 


368 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


on  man  to  nis  highest  destiny.  The  same  impulsive  aspirations  of  the 
spirit  ot"  projjross,  the  same  eniTgetic  onwiu'dncss  of  principle  which 
overlluew  Rome,  overthrew,  at  another  period,  the  simple  institutions 
of  the  woad-stained  Britons ;  and,  whatever  other  aspect  it  bears,  we 
niUit  attribute  to  the  same  national  energy  the  modern  introduction  of 
European  civilisation  into  Asia. 

VViicu  these  principles  come  to  be  applied  to  America,  and  to  be  tested 
by  its  native  tribes,  we  shall  clearly  perceive  their  appropriate  and  distinc- 
tive eill'cts.  In  South  America,  where  the  type  of  chivalry  marked  the 
discoverers,  barbarism  has  lingered  u  long  the  natives,  without  being 
destroyed,  for  three  centuries.  In  Canada,  which  drew  its  early 
colonists  exclusively  from  the  feudal  towns  and  seaports,  whose  inhabit- 
ants had  it  for  a  maxim,  that  they  had  done  all  that  wiis  required  of 
good  citizens,  when  they  had  done  all  that  had  been  previously  done,  the 
native  tribes  have  remained  perfectly  stationary.  With  the  exception 
of  slight  changes  in  dress,  and  an  absolute  depreciation  in  morals,  they 
are  essentially  at  this  day  what  they  were  in  the  respective  eras  of  Car- 
tier  and  Champlain.  In  the  native  monarchies  of  Mexico  and  Peru, 
Spain  overthrew  the  gross  objects  of  idolatrous  worship,  and  intercalated 
among  these  tribes  the  arts  and  some  of  the  customs  of  the  16th  century. 
With  a  very  large  proportion  of  the  tribes  but  little  was  attempted  be- 
yond military  subjugation,  and  lets  accomplished.  The  seaboard  tribes 
received  the  ritual  of  the  Romish  church.  Many  of  those  in  the  inte 
rior,  comprehending  the  higher  ranges  of  the  Andes  and  Cordilleras,  re- 
main to  this  day  in  the  undisturbed  practice  of  their  ancient  superstitions 
and  modes  of  subsistence.  It  is  seen  from  recent  discoveries,  that  there 
are  vast  portions  of  the  interior  of  the  country,  unknown,  unexplored 
and  undescribed.  We  are  just,  indeed,  beginning  to  comprehend  the 
true  character  of  the  indigenous  Indian  civilisation  of  the  era  of  the  disco- 
very. These  remarks  are  sufficient  to  show  how  feebly  the  obligations 
of  letters  and  Christianity  have  been  performed,  with  respect  to  the  red 
men,  by  the  colonists  of  those  types  of  the  early  European  civilisation, 
who  routed  themstilves  on  feudal  tenures,  m'litary  renown,  and  an  eccle- 
siastical system  of  empty  ceremonies. 

It  was  with  very  difi'erent  plans  and  principles  that  North  America 
was  colonized.  We  consider  the  Pilgrims  as  the  embodiment  of  the 
true  ancient  Teutonic  type.  Their  Alaric  and  Brennus  were  found  in 
the  pulpit  and  in  the  school-room.  They  came  with  high  and  severe 
notions  of  civil  and  religious  liberty.  It  was  their  prime  object  to  sus- 
tain themselves,  not  by  conquest,  but  by  cultivating  the  soil.  To  escape 
an  ecclesiastical  tyranny  at  home,  they  were  willing  to  venture  them- 
selves in  new  climes.  But  they  meant  to  triumph  in  the  arts  of  peace. 
They  embarked  with  the  Bible  as  their  shield  and  sword,  and  they  laid 
its  principles  at  the  foundation  of  all  their  institutions,  civil,  literary,  in- 


INDIAN  POLIOT. 


869 


dustrial,  and  ecclesiastic.  They  were  pious  and  industrious  themselves, 
and  they  designed  to  make  the  Indian  tribes  so.  They  bought  their 
lands  and  paid  for  them,  and  proceeded  to  establish  friendly  neighbor- 
hoods  among  the  tribes.  Religious  truth,  as  it  is  declared  in  the  Gos- 
pel, was  the  fundamental  principle  of  all  their  acts.  In  its  exposition 
and  daily  use,  they  followed  no  interpretations  of  councils  at  variance 
with  its  plain  import.     This  every  one  was  at  liberty  to  read. 

Placed  side  by  side  with  such  an  enlightened  and  purposed  race,  what 
had  the  priests  of  the  system  of  native  rites  and  superstitions  to  expect.' 
There  could  be  no  compromise  of  rites — no  partial  conformity — no  giving 
up  a  part  to  retain  the  rest — as  had  been  done  in  the  plains  of  Central 
America,  Mexico  and  Yucatan.  No  toleration  of  pseudo-paganism,  as 
had  been  done  on  the  waters  of  the  Orinoco,  the  Parana  and  the  Para- 
guay. Thfy  must  abandon  the  system  at  once.  The  error  was  gross 
and  total.  They  must  abjure  it.  They  had  mistaken  darkness  for  light ; 
and  they  were  now  offered  the  light.  They  had  worshipped  Lucifer 
instead  of  Immanuel.  This  the  tribes  who  spread  along  the  shores  of 
the  North  Atlantic  were  told,  and  nothing  was  held  back.  They 
founded  churches  and  established  schools  among  them.  They  trans- 
lated the  entire  Bible,  and  the  version  of  David^s  Psalms,  and  the 
Hymns  of  Dr.  Watts,  into  one  of  their  languages.  Two  types  of  the 
human  race,  more  fully  and  completely  antagonistical,  in  all  respects, 
never  came  in  contact  on  the  globe.  They  were  the  alpha  and  omega 
of  th"!  ethnological  chain.  If,  therefore,  the  Red  Race  declined,  and 
the  white  increased,  it  was  because  civilisation  had  more  of  the  prin- 
ciples of  endurance  and  progress  than  barbarism  ;  because  Christianity 
was  superior  to  paganism  ;  industry  to  idleness  ;  agriculture  to  hunting ; 
letters  to  hieroglyphics ;  truth  to  error.  Here  lie  the  true  ^ccrets  of 
the  Red  Men's  decline. 

There  are  but  three  principal  results  which,  we  think,  the  civilized 
world  could  have  anticipated  for  the  race,  at  the  era  of  the  discovery. 
1.  They  might  be  supposed  to  be  subject  to  early  extermination  on  the 
coasts,  where  they  were  found.  A  thousand  things  would  lead  to  this, 
which  need  not  be  mentioned.  Intemperance  and  idleness  alone  were 
adequate  causes.  2.  Philanthropists  and  Christians  might  hope  to  re 
claim  them,  either  in  their  original  positions  on  the  coasts,  or  in  agri- 
cultural communities  in  adjacent  parts.  8.  Experience  and  forecast 
mi«;ht  indicate  a  third  result,  in  which  full  success  should  attend 
neither  of  the  foregoing  plans,  nor  yet  complete  failure.  There  was 
nothing,  exactly,  in  the  known  history  of  mankind,  to  guide  opinion. 
A  mixed  condition  of  things  was  the  most  probable  result.  And  this, 
it  might  be  anticipated,  would  be  greatly  modified  by  times  and  seasons, 
circumstances  and  localities,  acting  on  particular  tribes.  Nothing  less 
could  have  been  expected  but  the  decline  and  extinction  of  some  tribe, 

24 


|i 


370 


INDIAN   POL:OY. 


ivhilst  the  removal  of  others,  to  less  exposed  positions,  would  be  found 
to  tell  upon  theii-  improvement.  The  cfFfcts  of  letters  and  Christianity 
would  necessarily  he  slow ;  but  they  were  elTects,  which  the  history  of 
discovery  and  civilisation,  in  other  parts  of  the  world,  proved  to  be 
effective  and  practical.  What  was  this  mixed  condition  to  eventuate 
in  ? — how  long  was  it  to  continue  ?  Were  the  tribes  to  exercise  sove* 
reign  political  jurisdiction  over  the  tracts  they  lived  on  ?  Were  they  to 
submit  to  the  civilized  code,  and  if  so,  to  the  penal  code  only,  or  also 
to  the  civil  ?  Or,  if  not,  were  they  to  exist  by  amalgamation  with  the 
European  stocks,  and  thus  contribute  the  elements  of  a  new  race  ? 
These,  and  many  other  questions,  early  arose,  and  were  often  not  a  little 
perplexing  to  magistrates,  legislatures,  and  governors.  It  was  evident 
the  aboriginal  race  possessed  distinctive  general  rights,  but  these  existed 
contemporaneously,  or  intermixed  with  the  rights  of  the  discoverers. 
How  were  these  separate  rights  to  be  defined  .'  How  were  the  weak 
to  be  protected,  and  the  strong  to  be  restrained,  at  points  beyond  the 
ordinary  pale  of  the  civil  law  .'  If  n  red  man  killed  a  white,  without 
the  ordinary  jurisdiction  of  the  courts,  could  he  be  seized  as  a  criminal? 
And  if  so,  wore  civil  offences,  committed  without  the  jurisdiction  of 
either  territory,  cognizable  in  either,  or  neither .'  Could  there  be  a 
supremacy  within  a  supremacy  ?  And  what  was  the  limit  between 
State  and  United  States  laws  }  Such  were  among  the  topics  entering 
into  the  Indian  policy.  It  was  altogether  a  mixed  system,  and  like  most 
mixed  systems,  it  worked  awkwardly,  confusedly,  and  sometimes  badly. 
Precedents  were  to  be  established  for  new  cases,  and  these  were  per- 
petually subject  to  variation.  Legislators,  judges,  and  executive  officers 
were  often  in  doubt,  and  it  required  the  wisest,  shrewdest,  and  best  mea 
in  the  land  to  resolve  these  doubts,  and  to  lay  down  rules,  or  advice,  for 
future  proceeding  in  relation  to  the  Red  Race.  It  will  be  suffic"?nt  to 
Dear  cut  the  latter  remark,  to  say,  that  among  the  sages  who  leemcd 
this  subject  important,  were  a  Roger  Williams,  a  Penn,  a  Frinklin,  a 
Washington,  a  Jefferson,  a  Monroe,  a  Crawford,  and  a  Calhoun. 

It  must  needs  have  happened,  that  where  the  Saxon  race  went,  the 
principles  of  law,  justice,  and  freedom,  must  prevail.  These  principles, 
as  thej'  existed  in  England  at  the  beginning  of  the  sixteenth  century, 
were  transferred  to  America,  with  the  Cavaliers,  the  Pilgrims,  and  the 
Quakers,  precisely,  as  to  the  two  first  topics,  as  they  existed  at  home. 
Private  rights  were  as  well  secured,  and  public  justice  as  well  awarded 
here,  as  there.  But  they  also  brought  over  the  aristocratic  system, 
which  was  upheld  by  the  royal  governors,  who  were  the  immediate  re- 
presentatives of  the  crown.  The  doctrine  was  impre.scriptible,  that  the 
fee  of  all  public  or  unpatented  lands  was  in  the  crown,  and  all  inhabit- 
ants of  the  realm  owed  allegiance  and  fealty  to  the  crown.  This  doc- 
trine, when  applied  to  the  native  tribes  of  America,  left  them  neither 


INDIAN   POLtOT. 


371 


Id  be  found 
[Christianity 
;  history  of 
9ved  to  be 
)  eventuate 
ercise  sove- 
iete  they  to 
)n1y,oralso 
on  with  the 
I  new  race  ? 
n  not  a  little 
vas  evident 
these  existed 
discoverers, 
ere  the  weak 
I  beyond  the 
■hite,  without 
as  a  criminal  ? 
urisdiction  of 
d  there  be  a 
limit  between 
opics  entering 
L  and  like  most 
netimes  badly, 
ese  were  per- 
cutive  officers 
and  best  mea 
or  advice,  for 
suffic=?nt  to 
who    teemed 
a  Fr«»nklin,  a 
houn. 
race  went,  the 
lese  principles, 
eenth  century, 
grims,  and  the 
isted  at  home, 
well  awarded 
)cratic  system, 
immediate  re- 
ptible,  that  the 
and  all  inhabit- 
wn.     This  doc- 
them  neither 


fee-simple  in  the  soil,  nor  political  sovereignty  over  it.  It  cut  them 
down  to  vassals,  but,  by  a  legal  solecism,  they  were  regarded  as  a  sort 
of  free  vassals.  So  long  as  the  royal  governments  remained,  they  had 
the  usufruct  of  the  public  domain — the  right  of  fishing,  and  hunting,  and 
planting  upon  it,  and  of  doing  certain  other  acts  of  occupancy  ;  but  this 
right  ceased  just  as  soon,  and  as  fast,  as  patents  were  granted,  or  the  publie 
exigency  required  the  domain.  The  native  chiefs  were  quieted  with 
presents  from  the  throne,  through  the  local  officers,  and  their  ideas  of  iu- 
dependcnce  and  control  were  answered  by  the  public  councils,  in  which 
friendships  were  established,  and  the  public  tranquillity  looked  after. 
Private  purchases  were  made  from  the  outset,  but  the  idea  of  a  public 
treaty  of  purchase  of  the  soil  under  the  proprietary  and  royal  governors, 
was  not  entertained  before  the  era  of  William  Penn. 

It  remained  for  the  patriots  of  1775,  who  set  up  the  frame  of  our  pre- 
sent government,  by  an  appeal  to  arms,  to  award  the  aboriginal  tribes 
the  full  proprietary  right  to  the  soil  they  respectively  occupied,  and  to 
guarantee  to  them  its  full  and  free  use,  until  such  right  was  relinquished 
by  treaty  stipulations.  So  far,  they  were  acknowledged  as  sovereigns. 
This  is  the  first  step  in  their  ppiitical  exaltation,  and  dates,  in  our  re- 
cords, from  the  respective  treaties  of  Fort  Pitt,  September  17,  1778, 
and  of  Fort  Stanwix,  of  October  22,  1784.  The  latter  was  as  early 
after  the  establishment  of  our  independence,  as  these  tribes — the  Six 
nations,  who,  with  the  exception  of  the  Oneidas,  sided  with  the  parent 
country — could  be  brought  to  listen  to  the  terms  of  peace.  They  were 
followed  by  the  Wyandots,  Delawares,  and  Chippewas,  and  Ottowas, 
in  January,  17S5 ;  by  the  Cheiokees,  in  November  of  the  same  year ; 
and  by  the  Choctaws  and  Shawnees,  in  January,  1786.  Other  western 
nations  followed  in  1789  ;  the  Creeks  did  not  treat  till  1790.  And  frcra 
this  era,  the  system  has  been  continued  up  to  the  present  moment,  ii 
may  be  affirmed,  that  there  is  not  an  acre  of  land  of  the  public  domaiu 
of  the  United  States,  sold  at  the  land  offices,  from  the  days  of  General 
Washington,  but  what  has  been  acquired  in  this  manner.  War,  in  which 
we  and  they  have  been  frequently  involved,  since  that  period,  has  con- 
veyed no  territorial  right.  We  have  conquered  them,  on  the  field,  not 
to  usurp  territory,  but  to  place  them  in  a  condition  to  observe  how  much 
more  their  interests  and  permanent  prosperity  would  be,  and  have  ever 
been,  promoted  by  the  plough  than  the  sword.  And  there  has  been  a 
prompt  recurrence,  at  every  mutation  from  war  to  peace,  punctually,  to 
that  fine  sentiment  embraced  in  the  first  article  of  the  first  treaty  ever 
made  between  the  American  government  and  the  Indian  tribes,  namely, 
that  all  offences  and  animosities  "  shall  be  mutually  forgiven,  and  buried 
in  deep  oblivion,  and  never  more  be  had  in  remembrance."* 

•  Treaty  of  Fort  Pitt,  177a 


372 


ItfDIAN  POMOT. 


The  first  step  to  advance  the  aboriginnl  man  to  his  natural  and  just 
political  ri:;hts,  nainuly,  thn  acknowiuilgment  of  hii  right  tj  the  soil,  we 
have  mentioned  ;  but  those  that  were  to  succeed  it  were  more  dilFicult 
and  complex  in  their  bearings.  Congress,  from  the  earliest  traces  ot 
their  action,  as  they  appear  in  their  journals  and  public  acts,  confined  the 
operation  of  the  civil  code  to  the  territory  actually  acquired  by  negotia> 
tion,  and  treaties  duly  ratified  by  the  Senate,  and  proclaimed,  agreeably 
to  the  Constitution,  by  the  President.  So  much  of  this  pulilic  territory 
as  fell  within  the  respective  State  Hnesy  fell,  l)y  the  terms  of  our  polili« 
cal  compact,  under  Stale  latoiy  and  the  jurisdiction  of  the  State  courts ; 
and  OS  soon  as  new  tracts  of  the  Indian  territory,  thus  within  State  boun« 
daries,  were  acquired,  the  State  laws  had  an  exact  corresponding  exten* 
sion  until  the  whole  of  such  Indian  lands  had  been  acquired.  This  pro* 
vided  a  definite  and  clear  mode  of  action,  and  if  it  were  sometimes  the 
■ubject  of  doubt  or  confliction,  such  perplexity  arose  from  the  great  ex- 
tension of  the  country,  its  sparsely  settled  condition,  and  the  haste  or 
ignorance  of  local  magistrates.  And  these  dilficulties  were  invariably 
removed  whenever  the  cases  came  into  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United 
States. 

Without  regard  to  the  area  of  the  States,  but  including  and  having 
respect  only  to  the  territories,  and  to  the  vast  and  unincorporated  wiU 
derness,  called  the  "  Indian  country,"  Congress  provided  a  special  code 
of  laws,  and  from  the  first,  held  over  this  part  of  the  Union,  and  holds 
over  it  now,  full  and  complete  jurisdiction.  This  code  was  designed 
chiefly  to  regulate  the  trade  carried  on  at  those  remote  points  between 
the  white  and  red  men,  to  preserve  the  public  tranquillity,  and  to  provide 
for  the  adjudication  of  offences  Citizens  of  the  United  States,  carrying 
the  passport,  license,  or  authority  of  their  government,  are  protected  by 
their  papers  thus  legally  obtained  ;  and  the  tribes  are  held  answerable  for 
their  good  treatment,  and  if  violence  occur,  for  their  lives.  No  civil 
process,  however,  has  efficacy  in  such  positions  ;  and  there  is  no  com- 
pulsory legal  colleclionof  debts,  were  it  indeed  practicable,  on  the  Indian 
territories.  The  customs  and  usages  of  the  trade  and  intercourse, 
as  established  from  early  times,  prevail  there.  These  customs  are 
chiefly  founded  on  the  patriarchal  system,  which  was  found  in  vogue  on 
the  settlement  of  the  country,  and  they  admit  of  compensations  and 
privileges  founded  on  natural  principles  of  equity  and  right.  The  Indian 
criminal  code,  whatever  that  is,  also  prevails  there.  Tlie  only  excep- 
tion to  it  arises  from  cases  of  Americans,  maliciously  killed  within  the 
■**  Indian  country,"  the  laws  of  Conqjress  providing,  that  the  aggressors 
«hould  b '  surrendered  into  the  hands  of  justice,  and  tried  by  the  nearest 
United  States  courts. 

These  preliminary  facts  will  exhibit  some  of  the  leading  features  of 
the  mixed  system  alluded  to.     Its  workings  were  better  calculated  for 


INDIAN   rOMCY. 

the  early  ataijcs  of  society,  while  population  was  sparse  and  the  two 
rnces,  ai  bodies,  ki-pt  far  apart,  tliuii  fur  ita  inaturer  periods.  As  the  in* 
turvciiiii^  lauds  l)i;cume  ceded,  and  soil,  and  nettled,  and  the  tribes  them* 
selves)  l)c<raii  to  piit  on  as{H'cts()t'civiliisalioii,  the  discrepancies  of  the  sys* 
tuin,  and  its  want  of  hoiiiogeneuiisnivss  and  harmony,  became  more  appa> 
rent.  Tlirou  jliout  tlv.'  whole  period  of  the  administrations  of  Washington, 
and  Joliti  .\Jauii,  and  Jelil-rsou,  a  period  of  twenty  years,  the  low  state  of 
our  population,  and  the  great  extent  and  unreclaimed  character  of  the 
public  dotnain,  left  the  Indians  undisturbed,  and  no  questions  of  much 
importance  occurred  to  test  the  permanency  of  the  system  us  regards 
the  welfare  of  the  Indians.  Mr.  JelL'rson  foresaw,  however,  the  ufFect 
of  encroachments  beyond  the  Ohio,  and  with  an  enlightened  regard  for 
the  race  and  their  civilisation,  prepared  a  new  and  consolidated  code  of 
all  prior  acts,  with  some  salutary  new  provisions,  which  had  the  eflt;ct  to 
systematize  the  trade  and  intercourse,  and  more  fully  to  protect  the  rights 
of  the  Indians.  This  code  served,  with  occasional  amendments,  through 
the  succeeding  administrations  of  Madison,  Monroe,  and  John  Quincy 
Adams,  into  that  of  General  Jaclcson,  when,  in  1834,  the  greatly  ad- 
vanced line  of  the  frontiers,  the  multiplied  population,  and  necessarily 
increased  tbrce  of  the  Indian  department,  and  the  large  amount  of  Indian 
annuities  to  be  paid,  called  for  its  thorough  revision,  and  a  new  general 
enactment  was  made. 

Previously,  however,  to  this  time,  during  the  administration  of  Mr. 
Monroe,  it  was  p^rci^ived  that  the  Indian  tribes,  as  separate  communi* 
tics,  living  in,  and  surrounded  by,  people  of  European  descent,  and  gov- 
crned  by  a  widely  ditfjrent  system  of  laws,  arts,  and  customs,  could  not 
be  expected  to  arrive  at  a  state  of  permanent  prosperity  while  thus  lo- 
cally situated.  The  tendency  of  the  Saxon  institutions,  laws,  and  juris- 
prudence, was  to  sweep  over  them.  The  greater  must  needs  absorb 
the  less.  And  there  appeared,  on  wise  and  mature  reflection,  no  rea- 
sonable hope  to  the  true  friends  of  the  native  race,  that  they  could  sus- 
tain themselves  in  independency  or  success  as  foreign  elements  in  the 
midst  of  the  State  communities.  It  was  impossible  that  two  systems  of 
governments,  so  diverse  as  the  Indian  and  American,  should  co-exist  on 
the  same  territory.  All  history  proved  this.  The  most  rational  hope 
of  success  for  this  race,  the  only  one  which  indeed  appeared  practical 
on  a  scale  contmensurate  with  the  object,  was  to  remove  them,  with 
their  own  consent,  to  a  position  entirely  without  the  boundaries  of  the 
State  jurisdictions,  where  they  might  assert  their  political  sovereignty, 
and  live  and  develope  their  true  national  character,  under  their  own 
laws. 

The  impelling  cause  for  the  action  of  the  government,  during  Mr 
Monroe's  administration,  was  the  peculiar  condition  of  certain  tribes,  liv- 
ing on  their  own  original  territories,  within  the  State  boundaries,  and 


I 


374 


INDIAN  POLICY. 


who  were  advene  lo  further  cessions  of  such  territory.  TTic  qucntion 
aasumed  its  principal  intt-rcst  in  ihu  Stain  of  Georgia,  within  which  por* 
tions  of  lht»  Creek  and  Cherokee  tribes  were  then  living.  Al»oul  ten 
millions  of  acres  of  lands  were  thus  in  the  occupancy  of  these  two  tribes. 
As  the  population  of  Georgia  exj)anded  and  approached  the  Indian  set- 
tlements, the  evils  of  the  mixed  political  system  alluded  to  began  strong- 
ly to  evince  themselves.  In  the  progress  of  the  dispersion  of  the  human 
race  over  the  globe,  there  never  was,  perhaps,  a  more  diverse  h'gal,  po- 
litical, and  moral  amalgamation  attempted,  than  there  was  found  to  ex- 
ist, when,  in  this  area,  the  descendants  from  the  old  Saxons,  north-men 
and  Hugenots  from  P^urope,  came  in  contact  with  the  descendants  (we 
apeak  of  a  theory)  of  the  idle,  pastoral,  un[)hilosophic,  non-inductive  race 
of  central  Asia,  living  in  the  genial  climate  and  sunny  valleys  of  Georgia 
and  Alabama. 

The  American  government  had  embarrassed  itself  by  stipulating  at  an 
early  day,  with  the  State  of  Georgia,  to  extinguish  the  Indian  title  with- 
in her  boundaries,  at  the  earliest  [)racticable  period,  when  it  could  be  done 
''  peaceably  and  on  reasonable  conditions."  The  Indians,  as  they  ad- 
vanced in  agriculture,  became  averse  to  sell.  The  Georgians,  as  they 
increased  in  numbers,  became  importunate  for  the  territory  to  which  they 
had,  in  this  event,  the  reversionary  right.  The  President  was  frequtsntly 
importuned  by  the  State  authorities.  The  Indians  were  frequently 
brought  to  consider  the  subject,  which  was  one  that  increased  its  impor- 
tance with  years. 

We  have  deemed  it  proper  to  put  this  matter  in  its  right  attitude  in 
relation  to  the  great  question  of  Indian  removal ;  and  as  furnishing,  as  it 
did,  reasons  for  the  early  consideration  and  action  of  the  government. 
It  is  not  our  intention  to  pursue  the  Georgia  question  disjunctively — we 
have  neither  time  nor  space  for  it  here,  and  will  only  further  premise, 
that  it  is  susceptible  of  some  very  different  views  from  those  often  pre- 
mised of  it.*  That  it  was  one  of  the  prominent  considerations  which 
led  the  administration  of  Monroe  to  take  up  betimes  tlie  general  question 
of  the  Indian  tribes,  is  well  known  and  remembered,  and  apparent  from 
a  perusal  of  the  public  documents  of  the  era. 

Governed  by  such  considerations,  Mr.  Monroe  communicated  a  spe- 
cial message  to  Congress  on  the  27th  of  January,  182r),  recommending 
the  removal  of  all  the  tribes  within  the  States  and  Territories,  and  pro- 
viding for  their  future  "  location  and  government."  This  is  the  official 
date  and  foundation  of  the  plan  of  removal,  which  ha^s  been  so  generally, 

♦  Wc  have  only  space  to  say  here,  that  the  ression  of  the  Goorsn'a  lands  was  slV- 
seq  lently  mjido  by  the  Lower  Crocks  under  the  chiphainoy  of  General  M'Intosh, 
who  was  the  first  to  aflix  his  signature  to  it.  For  this  act  he  paid  the  penalty  of  iiis 
life  ;  the  Upper  Creeks  and  their  adherents,  having  assemhled  in  arms,  surrounded 
his  house,  and  fired  three  hundred  balls  into  it,  killing  its  unhappy,  but  distinguish' 
ed  inmate. 


INDIAN   POLICY. 

and  may  wc  not  add,  lo  successfully  and  propitiously  to  the  brat  inte* 
rests  of  the  tribes,  carried  into  eflect.  "  lieiii;;  deeply  impressed  with 
the  opinion,"  observes  this  venerated  statesman,  who  has,  years  since, 
gone  to  join  the  patriot  spirits  who  achieved  our  independence — 'Mhat 
the  removal  of  the  Indian  tribes  from  the  lund  which  they  now  occu< 
py,  witliin  the  limits  of  the  several  States  and  Territories,  to  the  coun* 
try  lying  wstward  and  northward  thereof,  wilhiii  our  acknowledged 
boundaries,  is  of  very  hi;rh  importance  to  the  Union,  and  may  be  accom* 
plished  on  conditions,  and  in  a  manner,  to  promote  the  interests  and  hap- 
piness of  those  tribes,  the  attention  of  the  government  has  been  long 
drawn,  with  great  solicitude,  to  the  object. 

"  For  the  removal  of  the  tribes  within  the  limits  of  the  State  of  Gcor* 
gia,thc  motive  has  been  peculiarly  strong,  arising  from  the  compact  with 
that  State,  whereby  the  United  States  are  bound  to  extinguish  the  In- 
dian title  to  the  lands  within  it,  whenever  it  may  be  done  peaceably,  and 
on  reasonable  conditions. 

*'  In  the  fulfdment  of  this  compact,  I  have  thought  that  the  United 
States  should  act  with  a  generous  spirit,  that  they  should  omit  nothing 
which  should  comport  with  a  liberal  construction  of  the  instrument,  and 
likewise  be  in  accordance  with  the  just  rights  of  those  tribes.  From  the 
view  which  1  have  taken  of  the  subject,  I  am  satisfied  that,  in  the  dis- 
charge of  these  important  duties,  in  regard  to  both  the  parties  alluded  to, 
the  United  States  will  have  to  encounter  no  conflicting  interests  with 
either :  on  the  contrary,  that  the  removal  of  the  tribes  from  the  Territo- 
ries which  they  inhabit,  to  that  which  was  designated  in  the  message  at 
the  commencement  of  the  session,  which  would  accomplish  the  object 
for  Georgia,  under  a  well  digested  plan  for  their  government  and  civili- 
sation, in  a  mode  agreeable  to  themselves,  would  not  only  shield  them 
from  impending  ruin,  but  promote  their  welfare  and  happiness.  Experi 
ence  has  clcarty  deinonslrated  that,  in  their  present  state,  it  is  impossible  to 
incorporate  them,  in  such  musses,  in  any  form  whatever,  into  our  system.  It 
has  also  demonstrated,  xoith  equal  certainty,  that  without  a  timely  anticipa- 
tion of,  and  provision  against,  the  dangers  lo  which  they  are  exposed,  under 
causes  which  it  will  be  difficult,  if  not  impossible,  to  control,  their  degrada- 
tion and  extermination  will  be  inevitable.''* 

We  have  underscored  the  last  two  sentences,  because  they  express 
in  forcible  and  just  language,  the  experience  of  the  American  govern- 
ment, in  relation  to  the  subject,  afler  an  experiment  of  fifty  years,  dating 
from  '75,  and  lie,  indeed,  at  the  foundation  of  the  present  Indian  policy. 
It  is  also  the  experience  of  sound  and  calm  observers,  who  have  watch- 
ed the  operation  of  our  laA's  and  customs  upon  the  isolated  Indian  com« 
muniiies  in  the  States.  Every  year  has  exemplified  the  futility  of  rais- 
ing them  up  to  the  European  standard  in  industry,  in  intelligence  or  cha- 
racter, while  thus  situated ;  nor  indeed,  has  it  been  practicable  to  shield 


11 H 


376 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


them  effectually  against  the  combined  e!!;i;ts  of  intemperance,  personal 
■loth,  and  of  popular  and  vulgar  contumely. 

Mr.  Calhoun,  whose  report  on  the  subject  was  transmitted  to  Con- 
gress, with  the  message  above  named,  communicates  the  details  essen- 
tial to  the  execution  of  the  proposed  plan.  He  states  the  whole  num- 
ber of  Indians  to  be  removed  from  the  States  and  Territories,  excluding 
those  located  west  and  north  of  Lake  Michigan  and  the  Slraits  of  St. 
Mary's,  at  97,000  souls,  who  occupy  about  77  millions  of  acres  of  land. 
The  country  proposed  for  their  location  ia  that  stretching  immediately 
weft,  beyond  the  boundaries  of  the  States  of  Missouri  and  Arica\:>A3, 
having  the  River  Arkansas  running  through  its  centre  from  west  to  east, 
the  IMissouri  and  Red  rivers  respectively  as  the  northern  boundary,  and 
the  vast  grassy  plains  east  of  the  Rocky  Mountains,  as  its  western 
limit. 

The  map  which  we  publish  of  this  territory,  is  drawn  on  the  basis  of 
one  which  was  published  by  Congress  in  1S34,  in  illustration  of  the  re- 
port of  the  committee  on  Indian  affairs  of  May  30th  of  that  session.  It 
embraces  all  the  locations  of  tribes  to  that  period. 

The  plan  proposed  the  gratuitous  grant  of  the  country  to  the  respec- 
tive tribes,  and  their  removal  to  it  at  government  expense.  It  embraces 
the  transference  to  it,  of  their  schools  established  by  religious  societies,  and 
supported,  in  part,  by  the  civilisation  fund,  and  all  their  means  of  moral 
and  religious  culture.  It  is  based  on  the  pursuit  of  agriculture,  the  me- 
chanic arts,  and  the  raising  of  cattle  and  stock.  It  invests  the  tribes 
with  full  power  of  making  and  executing  all  their  laws  and  regulations, 
civil  and  criminal.  It  stipulates  military  protection,  to  keep  the  sur* 
rounding  tribes  at  peace.  It  leaves  them  their  political  sovereignty ; 
being  without  the  boundary  of  the  States,  under  their  own  chiefs  and 
local  governors,  with  such  aids  as  are  necessary  to  enable  the  various 
tribes  to  associate  and  set  up  the  frame  of  an  associated  government  to 
be  managed  by  themselves,  and  as  subsequently  proposed  in  Congress, 
to  be  represented  in  that  body  whenever  the  system  shall  be  perfected 
so  as  to  justify  this  measure.  It  proposed,  as  the  basis  of  removal,  a 
solenm  act  of  Congress,  guaranteeing  the  country  to  them,  and  exclud- 
ing its  future  incorporation  into  the  States.  A  second  location,  in  the 
northern  latitudes,  was  proposed  for  the  Indians  west  of  Michigan,  where 
a  further  body  of  32,266  souls  were  estimated  to  reside. 

Such  were  the  general  principles  of  Mr.  Monroe's  plan,  submitted  in 
1825,  and  subsequently  adopted  by  Congress,  in  its  essirntial  features. 
It  has  now  been  in  operation  Eifit'rEKN  years,  and  it  is  proposed,  in 
bringing  this  paper  to  a  close,  briefly  to  examine  the  condition  and  pros- 
pects of  the  expatriated  tribes,  in  the  country  to  which  they  have  been 
transferred. 

By  a  report  from  the  proper  department,  transmitted  to  Congress  with 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


377 


vest  to  east, 


the  President's  mcssagR  in  1836,  the  result  of  the  first  ten  years'  expe- 
riment is  shown  to  have  been  the  actual  migration  of  40,000  from 
their  original  seats,  east,  to  the  allotted  Indian  territory,  wt'st  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi. Of  this  number,  18,000  were  Creeks,  15,000  Chocta\vs,fi,000 
Cherokees,  2,000  Chippewas,  Oltawas,  and  Pottowatloniiis,  1,300 
Shawnees,  800  Deluwares,  500  Quapaws,  400  Seminoli's,  600  Kicka- 
poos,  400  Senecas,  and  an  average  of,  say  250  each,  of  Appalachicolas, 
Weas,  Piankashaws,  Peorias  and  Kaskaskias.  In  thii  statement,  small 
fractions  over  or  under,  are  omitted.  A  location  and  permanent  home 
has  been  provided  for  seventeen  tribes  and  parts  of  tribes  ;  a  number 
which,  in  the  succeeding  seven  years,  we  speak  from  documcnils  before 
us,  has  been  largely  augmented.  The  whole  body  of  the  Cherokees,  of 
the  Creeks,  or  Muscogees,  of  the  Chickasaws  and  Choctaws,  &c.,  and 
also,  with  the  exception  of  one  principal  band,  of  the  Seminoles,  have 
boen  removed.  Portions  of  other  tribes,  not  then  full,  have  joined  their 
kindred  ;  and  soTfie  whole  tribes,  who  had  not  before  come  into  the  ar- 
rangement, and  ceded  their  lands  east,  as  the  Miamas  of  the  Wabash, 
and  the  Wyandots  of  Sanduskey,  have  since  accepted  locations  in  the 
Indian  territory.  The  Chickasaws  are  all  located  with  their  afliiiated 
countrymen,  the  Choctaws  ;  and  numbers  of  the  ancient  Iroquois  con- 
federacy, the  Six  Nations  of  New  York,  as  well  as  the  ancient  Mohe- 
gans  and  Munsees,  have,  within  a  few  years,  selected  locations  south  of 
the  Missouri.  The  entire  number  of  red  men  now  concentrated  on  those 
plains  and  valleys,  where  winter  scarcely  exerts  any  severity  of  power, 
may  be  set  down  at  77,000  souls,  leaving,  from  the  olficial  report  of 
1841,  but  21,774  of  ihe  original  estimated  number  of  1825,  to  be  remov- 
ed ;  exclusive  of  those  west  of  the  straits  of  Michilimachinac  and  St. 
Mary's. 

From  the  documents  accompanying  the  annual  report  transmitted  to 
Congress  by  the  President,  in  December,  18-iO,  the  amount  of  funds 
invested  by  the  government  in  stocks,  for  the  Indians,  was  $2,5S0,000, 
on  which  the  annual  interest  paid  to  them  was  $131,05.  Twenty-four 
of  the  tribes  had  permanently  appropriated,  by  treaty,  $60,730  jkt  an- 
ipim,  for  the  purpose  of  education.  The  number  of  schools  maintained, 
anti  the  number  of  pupils  actually  taught,  are  not  furnished.  It  is  grati- 
fying to  know,  from  this  source,  that  civilisation,  agriculture,  and  the 
mechanic  arts,  are  making  a  rapid  progress,  nnd  that  education  and 
Christianity  are  walking  hand-in-hand.  Planting  and  raising  cattle  are 
adopted  generally.  Portions  of  the  most  advanced  tribes  have  devoted 
themselves  to  the  mechanic  arts,  supplying  themselves,  to  a  limited  ex- 
tent, with  smiths,  wheelwrights,  carix'nters,  and  joiners,  and  some  other 
Dranches.  Spinning  and  hund-loonj  weaving  are  practised  to  some  ex- 
tent. There  are  native  nuTclianls,  among  the  throe  principal  southern 
tribes,  who  ship  theii  own  cotton  and  other  products  to  market,  and  »up- 


!! 


378 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


ply  their  people,  in  return,  with  such  products  of  the  East  and  West  In- 
dies, and  other  parts  of  the  world,  as  they  require.  A  large  part  of  the 
contracts,  particularly  for  Indian  corn,  required  to  subsist  the  United 
States  troops  in  that  quarter  of  the  Union,  is  furnished  by  native  con- 
tractors. Their  legislation  is  performed  in  representative  councils,  and 
is  well  adapted  to  the  actual  and  advancing  state  of  society.  Many  of 
their  leading  men  are  well  educated  ;  some  of  them  classically ;  and  the 
general  moral  and  intellectual  tone  and  habits  of  the  tribes,  are  clearly 
and  strikingly  on  the  advance.  It  requires,  it  is  believed,  but  time  and 
perseverance  in  civil  associations,  to  lead  them  to  the  same  results  ar- 
rived at  by  other  barbarous  nations,  and  to  demonstrate  to  them  the 
value  and  importance  of  a  general  political  confederation,  founded  on  the 
principles  of  equal  rights  and  equal  representation,  supported  by  public 
virtue  and  intelligence. 

Having  sketched  the  cause  of  the  decline  of  that  portion  of  the  North 
American  Indians,  who  were  seated  alons  the  Atlantic,  and  the  plan 
proposed  for  checking  it,  we  shall  now,  with  the  map  and  documentary 
evidence  before  us,  devote  a  few  moments  to  the  present  condition  and 
prospects  of  the  more  prominent  tribes. 

1.  The  Choctaws,  beginning  at  the  extreme  south  of  the  territory,  are 
the  first  in  position.  They  occupy  the  country  above  the  State  of  Ar- 
kansas, extending  from  the  Arkansas  to  the  Red  river,  following  up  the 
Canadian  branch  of  the  former,  comprising  an  area  of  about  150  miles 
in  breadth,  by  200  in  length.  They  are  bounded  by  Texas  south-west. 
The  country  is  well  adapted  for  grain  and  the  raising  of  stock,  in  its 
middle  and  northern  parts,  and  for  cotton  on  che  south.  Many  of  the 
natives  have  large  fields,  where,  but  a  few  years  since,  the  forest  was 
untouched.  Saw  mills,  grist  mills,  and  cotton  gins,  are  either  erecting 
or  erected  throughout  the  country.  Salt  is  manufactured  by  an  intelli- 
gent Choctaw.  Iron  ore  has  bt:n  found,  and  specimens  of  gold  have 
been  picked  up  in  various  places. 

This  tribe  is  governed  by  a  written  constitution  and  laws.  Their  ter- 
ritory is  divided  into  three  districts,  each  of  which  elects,  once  in  four 
years,  a  ruling  chief,  and  ten  representatives.  The  general  council, 
thus  constituted,  and  consisting  of  thirty  councillors,  meets  annually,  on 
the  first  Monday  in  October.  Voters  must  be  Choctaws,  of  age,  and 
residents  of  the  districts.  The  three  chiefs  have  a  joint  veto  power 
on  all  laws  passed  ;  but  two-thirds  of  the  council  may  re-pass  them  after 
such  rejection. 

The  council  of  thirty  appoint  their  own  speaker  and  clerk,  and  keep 
a  journal.  They  meet  in  a  large  and  commodious  council-house,  fitted 
up  with  seats  for  members  and  spectators,  and  committee  rooms.  Their 
sessions  are,  usually,  about  ten  days  in  duration.  They  are  paid  two 
dollars  per  diem  for  their  services,  out  of  public  funds. 


N 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


379 


In  addiiion  to  this  evrdence  of  capacity  for  self-government,  there  are 
judicial  districts  established,  the  right  of  trial  by  jury  is  secured,  and 
there  is  an  appeal  to  the  highest  tribunal.  All  the  males,  of  a  special 
age,  are  subject  to  do  military  duty :  fur  this  purpose  the  territory  is 
subdivided  into  thirty  two  captaincies,  the  whole  being  placed  under  the 
orders  of  a  general.  The  council  has  passed  many  good  and  wholesome 
laws ;  among  them,  one  against  intemperance  and  the  sale  of  ardt>nt 
spirits.  The  collection  of  debts  is  at  present  not  compulsory,  being 
regulated  by  questions  of  credit,  punctuality,  and  honor,  which  are  to  be 
adjusted  between  the  buyer  and  seller.  The  country  is  too  sparsely 
settled,  and  the  popular  odium  against  incarceration  too  strong,  to  permit 
a  resort  to  it.  Thus,  it  will  be  seen,  this  tribe  exhibit  in  their  frame 
of  government  the  elements  of  a  representative  republic,  not  a  pure 
democracy,  with  perhaps  sufficient  conservative  power  to  guard  against 
sudden  popular  effervescence. 

The  Choctaws  have  twelve  public  schools,  established  by  treaty 
stipulations  with  the  United  States.  There  are  several  missionaries 
amongst  them,  of  the  Presbyterian  and  Methodist  denominations,  whose 
labors  are  reported  by  the  public  agents  to  be  beneficial,  and  calculated 
to  advance  their  condition.  There  are  four  public  blacksmith  shops, 
two  of  which  are  exclusively  worked  by  the  natives.  The  strikers,  or 
assistants,  at  all  the  shops,  are  natives.  Shops  have  also  been  erected, 
in  various  parts  of  the  nation,  which  are  occupied  only  in  the  spring  and 
summer,  in  planting  and  crop  time.  The  mechanics  in  these  are  na- 
tives, who  are  paid,  not  by  the  individuals  requiring  aid,  but  out  of  public 
funds.  The  nation  has  an  academy  located  in  Scott  county,  Kentucky, 
at  which  12.5  students  were  taught  in  1839  and  1840.  This  institution 
is  now  in  the  process  of  being  established  in  their  own  territory.  This 
tribe  we  learn  by  the  Secretary  of  Wp.r's  report,  appropriated  $1S,C00 
of  their  annuities,  in  1S43,  to  educational  purposes. 

2.  Chickasaws.  This  tribe  is  of  the  same  lineage  as  the  Choctaws  ; 
and,  by  a  compact  with  tl  latter,  they  occupy  the  same  territory,  and 
live  intermixed  with  them.  It  constitutes  a  part  of  this  compact,  that 
the  Chickasaws  are  to  concentrate  their  population,  and  form  a  fourth 
election  district,  which  shall  be  entitled  to  elect  ten  representatives,  and 
three  senatorial  chiefs,  to  the  national  Council.  The  aggregate  amount 
of  the  vested  funds  of  this  tribe,  in  18-1.0,  was  $515,230  44;  of  which 
$146,000  is  devoted  to  orphans.  The  annual  interest  paid  by  the  gov- 
ernment is  $27,063  83.  They  participate  equally  in  the  advantages  of 
the  Choctaw  academy,  and  have  had  many  of  their  youth  educated  at 
that  institution. 

3.  Next,  in  geographical  position,  to  the  united  Choctaws  and  Chick- 
asaws, are  the  Muskogees,  who  are  more  generally  known  under  the 
name  of  Creeks.     They  occupy  a  territory  one  hundred  and  fifty  noiles 


380 


IXO.'AN    rOLICY. 


in  length,  by  ninety  in  breadth.  They  are  bounded  on  the  south  by  the 
Cauadian  fork  of  tlio  Arkansas,  and  by  the  district  of  ihe  Seminoies, 
which  lit;s  between  the  main  branch  of  this  stream  and  its  north  fork. 
Their  territory  reaches  to  a  point  opposite  the  junction  of  the  Neosito, 
and  is  protracted  tlience  north  to  the  Cherokee  boundary.  It  is  a  rich 
tract,  well  adapted  to  the  growth  of  corn,  vegetables,  and  esculents, 
and  the  raising  of  stock.  It  is  not  as  abundantly  watered  by  running 
streams  as  some  of  the  tracts,  or  rather,  it  is  a  characteristic  of  its 
smaller  streams  that  they  run  dry,  or  stand  in  pools,  during  the  latter 
part  of  summer.  In  place  of  these,  it  has  some  good  spi  ings.  The 
main  and  the  north  fork  of  the  Canadian  are  exemptions  from  the  eflects 
of  summer  drouth.  In  point  of  salubrity,  the  country  is  not  inferior  to 
other  portions  of  the  Indian  territory. 

The  government  of  the  Creeks  is  still  essentially  the  same  which 
they  exercised  on  the  banks  of  the  Chattahoochee  and  the  plains  of 
Georgia.  They  exist  in  chieftainships,  each  head  of  which  has  his  own 
local  jurisdiction,  civil  and  criminal.  Each  ruling  chief  has  his  village 
and  his  adherents  ;  and  ^le  condition  of  things  partakes  of  what  we  shall 
be  understood  by  designating  feudal  traits.  They  have  no  written  con- 
stitution ;  their  laws  are,  however,  now  reduced  in  part  to  writing. 
General  councils,  or  conventions,  not  exact  in  the  period  of  their  occur- 
rence, consider  and  decide  all  general  questions.  At  these,  the  chief- 
tainships are  all  entitled  to  representation.  Local  questions,  of  right 
and  police,  come  before  the  local  chiefs,  and  are  settled  according  to 
usage.  They  adhere  to  the  original  mode  of  working  common  or  town 
fields,  at  which  it  is  the  duty  of  all  to  assist,  both  in  the  original  clear* 
ing  and  in  the  annual  labor  of  planting  and  reaping.  There  are  also  in- 
dividuals, possessing  slaves,  who  manage  pretty  extensive  plantations. 
More  corn  ia  raised  by  this  tribe  than  by  any  other  now  located  West. 
Over  and  above  their  own  wants,  they  have  for  several  years  had  a 
large  amount  for  sale  and  exportation.  Less  attention  has  been  paid  to 
the  raising  of  stock,  for  which,  indeed,  the  country  has  been  deemed  less 
propitious  ;  but  this  branch  of  industry  has  of  late  years  attracted  more 
attention. 

The  Creeks  had,  for  many  years  prior  to  their  removal,  been  divided 
into  upper  and  lower  towns — a  distinction  which  has  been  transferred  tc 
the  West.  Opothleyoholo  is  the  chief  of  the  Upper,  and  Roly  Mcln 
tosh  of  the  Lower  Creeks.  These  two  chieftainships  embrace  the  lessei 
ones,  and  divide  the  nation  into  two  parties.  It  was  the  Lower  towns, 
headed  by  the  father  of  the  present  chief  (whose  tragic  death  we  have 
mentioned),  that  ceded  the  Georgian  territory,  and  thus  sided  in  the 
policy  of  that  State.  The  condition  in  which  this  tribe  existed,  in  por- 
tions of  Georgia,  Alabama,  and  Mississippi,  vas,  in  other  respects,  pecu- 
liar.    In  emerging,  as  they  were  well  in  the  pn^Pi^  ot  .Unn^',  f'-orr  \\uf 


ncviAn  POLICY. 


381 


ktinter  to  thfi  agricultural  f  tate,  the  institution  of  slavery,  by  which  they 
vere  sunountled,  and  in  which  they  participated,  gave  a  peculiar  de- 
velopment to  their  industry.  Chiets,  who  wore  averse  to  work  them- 
selves, employed  slaves,  and  thus  the  relation  of  planter  and  slave 
was  established  lonj  before  the  question  of  their  removal  occurred.  The 
eflects  of  this  were  to  exalt  a  portion  of  the  nation  above,  and  to  depress 
others  below,  the  average  standing.  The  disparity  which  took  place  in 
laborious  habits  and  in  wealth,  also  impre.ssed  itself  on  education,  dress, 
manners,  and  in  ormatioa  generally.  Although  the  idea  of  slavery  was 
well  known  to  the  red  race  from  the  earliest  times,  and  they  all  have  a 
word  for  it,  in  their  native  vocabularies,  and  practised  it  on  their  pri- 
soners, yet  the  result  we  are  considering  was  accelerated  by  an  admix- 
ture of  European  blood  in  their  chieftains.  Hence  it  is  that  this 
tribe,  and  one  or  two  others  in  the  south,  have  for  years  been  able  to 
put  forth  intelligent  chiefs  to  tran.sact  their  public  business,  who  have 
astonished  the  circles  at  Washington.  Yet,  if  they  were  followed  to 
the  huts  of  the  common  people,  at  home,  there  was  a  degree  of  igno- 
rance and  barbarity,  even  below  the  standard  of  our  leading  northern 
tribes.  Two  kinds  of  testimony,  respecting  the  condition  of  the  southern 
tribes,  both  very  dilTerent,  and  both  true,  could  therefore  be  given. 

The  Creeks  came  west,  soured  and  disappointed,  and  but  little  dis- 
posed for  the  effort  before  them.  They  had  suffered  in  various  ways, 
and  they  had  left  the  southern  slopes  and  sunny  valleys  of  the  southern 
Alleganies  with  "  a  longing,  lingering  look."  They  had  never  mani- 
fested a  general  interest  in  schools,  and  none  whatever  in  religion.  Th» 
latter  is  still  the  prevalent  feeling.  It  is  believed  there  is  not  a  mission- 
ary now  tolerated  among  them.  There  is  a  more  friendly  feeling  towards 
education.  Neither  had  they  made  much  advance  in  mechanic  arts. 
The  chiefs  were  too  proud,  the  common  people  too  indolent,  to  learn  the 
use  of  the  saw  or  the  hammer.  Some  change,  in  this  respect,  is 
thought  to  have  ensued.  Mechanics  are  employed  for  their  benefit  and 
at  their  charges,  by  the  government,  which  must  introduce  the  elements 
of  mechanical  industry.  They  dress  in  a  rather  gaudy,  but  picturesque 
manner.  They  live  in  comfortable  houses  of  squared  or  scored  logs, 
fitted  up  with  useful  articles  of  furniture,  and  they  employ  beasts  of 
burthen  and  of  pleasure.  It  is  the  evidence  of  the  government  agents, 
that  the  signs  of  advancing  thrift  and  industry  are  among  them.  Time 
alone,  it  is  believed,  is  necessary,  with  a  perseverance  in  present  efforts, 
to  carry  them  onwards  to  civilisation  and  prosperity.* 

4.  Seminoles.  This  tribe  is  of  the  language  and  lineage  of  the 
Creeks.     They  are  appropriately  placed  on  a  tract  within  the  general 

♦  Tin's  tribe  lias,  ihe  past  year  (1843),  pnsscd  a  law  ex-pplliii!f  nil  while  men 
who  play  at  cards,  fruiu  the  limits  ol  the  notion,  wlieiher  ihcy  have  Indiaa 
wives  or  not.  ' 


In 

I  ^11  ill 


1M». 


382 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


area  of  the  latter,  bounded  on  the  south  by  the  Canadian  fork  of  the 
Arkansas,  and  by  the  bmls  of  the  Choctaws  and  Chickasaws.  The 
tract  has  an  extent  of  seventy  miles  from  east  to  west,  and  is  fully  ade- 
quate to  their  wants.  A  blacksmith^s  shop  is  maintained  for  them  ; 
they  are  furnished  with  agricultural  implements,  and  have  been  gratui- 
tously subsisted,  as  other  tribes,  one  year,  at  the  public  expense.  It  Is 
thought  to  be  unfavorable  to  their  progress,  that  they  have  been  allowed 
to  migrate  with  their  slaves,  who  are  averse  to  labor  and  exert  a  para- 
lysing influence  on  their  industry.  This  tribe  is  far  behind  the  other 
Bouthern  tribes  in  civilisation  and  manners.  They  occupied,  while  in 
Florida,  a  region  truly  tropical  in  its  climate,  and  which  yielded  spon- 
taneously no  unimportant  part  of  their  subsistence,  in  the  arrowroot  and 
in  sea  tish.  Their  chief  product  thus  far,  in  the  west,  has  been  corn. 
They  live  under  the  authority  of  local  chiefs,  who,  as  in  all  their  past 
history,  exercise  influence  in  proportion  to  their  talents  and  courage. 
Their  withdrawal  from  scenes  and  situ.itions  which  served  as  nurseries 
of  idle,  savage  habits,  and  their  association  with  the  other  leading  tribes, 
who  are  now  bent  on  supporting  themselves  exclusively  by  agriculture, 
have  been  favorable.  They  have  been  at  peace  since  their  arrival  on 
the  waters  of  the  Arkansas  ;  and  it  is  anticipated  that  t^ey  will,  by  ex- 
ample and  emulation,  assimilate  themselves  in  industry  with  the  pre- 
existing tribes.  It  has  already  been  demonstrated  that  they  will  sus- 
tain themselves  in  their  new  field  of  labor.  But  few  of  their  numbers 
•^from  the  last  accounts  not  exceeding  100* — now  remain  in  Florida. 

5.  Cherokees.  This  tribe  is  prominent  among  the  native  stocks  in 
the  United  States,  and  is  foremost  in  the  efforts  it  has  made  to  take  rank 
among  civilized  nations.  In  this  effort  it  has  passed  through  some 
severe  and  tragic  ordeals  from  internal  dissensions,  from  which  it  would 
seem,  that  in  proportion  as  the  prize  is  brought  within  their  grasp,  are 
the  trials  multiplied  which  delay  its  seizure.  And,  notwithstanding  its 
strong  claims  to  consideration  on  this  head,  they  have,  it  must  be  ad- 
mitted, much  to  attain.  The  original  position  of  the  Cherokees,  in 
the  valleys  and  the  western  spurs  of  the  AUeganies,  and  remote  from 
the  disturbing  causes  wtiich  agitated  the  other  tribes,  was  highly  favor- 
able to  their  increase  and  advance.  No  tribe  in  North  America  had 
remained  so  completely  undisturbed,  by  red  or  white  men,  up  to  the 
year  1836.  They  were  early,  and  to  a  considerable  extent,  cultiva- 
tors ;  and  whatever  they  were  in  ancient  times,  they  have  been  a 
nation  at  peace,  for  a  long  period.  Soon  after  the  close  of  the  late 
war  of  1812,  a  portion  of  this  tribe  went  over  the  Mississippi,  and,  by 
a  compact  with  governmen-t,  placed  themselves  between  the  waters  of 
the  Wikite  river  and  the  Arkansas.    This  advance  formed  the  nucleus 


•  Secretary  of  War's  report,  1843. 


INDIAN   FOUCY. 


383 


of  that  politiciil  party,  who  have  mingled  in  their  recent  asscinhlies 
under  the  name  of  Western  Cherokees,  and  who  deemed  themselves 
to  be  entitled  to  some  rights  and   considerations  above   the  Eastern 
Cherokees.     The   principal   dissensions,   however,  grew  out  of  the 
question  of  the  cession  of  the  territory  east  of  the  Mississippi.     Thi» 
was  a  broad  question  of  8alc  or  no  sate,  emiyration  or  non-emigration. 
At  the  head  of  the  affirmative  party  was  Ridge ;  at  the  head  of  the 
negative,  I{fl.ss.     The  latter,  in  addition  to  his  being  the  leading  chief 
and  most  prominent  man,  was  in  a  large  majority,  and,  for  a   time, 
successfully  resisted    the    measure.     The  former  drew  a  numbei    of 
the   best  educated  chiefs  and  men  to  his  .side.      Availing  himself  of 
the  temporary  absence  of  his  antagonist,  Ross,  from  the  country,  he 
ceded  the  country,  and  sealed  the  fate  of  his  tribe  east  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi.    It  was  a  minority  treaty,  but  the  consideration  was  ample  ; 
it  secured  large  prospective  advantages,  besides  a  large  and  rich  dornain 
in  tho  West.     It  was,  therefore,  sustained  by  the  government ;  the  U.  S 
Senate  ratified  it,  adding  some  further  immunities  and  further  compensa- 
tion, at  the  instance  of  Ross.    The  tribe  was  removed, but  it  went  west 
with  a  deadly  feud.    In  the  end.  Ridge,  like  Mcintosh,  paid  for  his 
temerity  with  his  life.     A  representative  government  was  set  up,  consist- 
ing of  a  house  of  delegates  or  representatives,  annually  chosen  by  dis- 
tricts ;  a  senatorial  council,  with  powers  of  revision  or  co-action,  and  an 
executive  elective   head.     A  code  of  laws  has  been  adopted,  and  a 
judiciary  created  to  carry  them  into  effect.     This  system,  which  has  betn 
in  operation  some  six  or  seven  years,  has   been   found  adequate  to 
sustain  itself  through  scenes  of  severe  trial ;  Lad  it  must  be  regarded 
Bs  one  which,  modified  as  it  ma}'  be,  is  destined  to  endure. 

The  territory  of  the  Cherokees  is  between  that  of  the  Creeks  and 
Osagps.  It  is  ample  beyond  their  wants,  fertile,  and  generally  well 
watered.  The  Arkansas  crosses  it  centrally ;  it  has  the  Neosho  and 
the  State  of  Arkansas  as  its  eastern  boundary.  It  is  well  adapted  to 
the  cereal  grains.  Corn,  wheat  and  oats  succeed  well,  together  with 
melons  and  culinary  vegetables  of  all  descriptions.  The  Cherokees 
have  been  long  accustomed  to  husbandry.  They  own  large  stocks  of 
horses,  cattle,  hogs  and  sheep.  They  occupy  substantial  and  comforta- 
ble houses.  Many  of  their  females  spin  and  weave,  and  numbers  of 
their  people  are  clothed  in  their  own  manufactures.  Well  improved 
farms  extend  through  their  settlements.  A  number  of  their  merchimts 
are  natives,  who  buy  and  sell  produce,  and  import  foreign  merchandise. 
Reading  and  writing  are  common  attainments.  They  have  schools  and 
churches.  They  have  mills  for  grinding  grain.  They  manufacture  salt 
to  a  limited  extent.  The  country  yields  stone  coal  and  gypsum.  The 
prairies,  which  are  interspersed  through  the  tract,  yield  a  fine  summer 
range  for  catle,  and  produce  a  species  of  grass,  which,  when  propenjr 


384 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


cured,  is  little  inferior  to  timothy.  With  a  country  whicli  }ias  tluis  the 
elfmi'Uts  of  prosperity  in  itself,  and  an  intelligent  and  industrious  popu> 
lation,  thii  tribe  inuit,  ere  long,  present  the  gratifying  spectacle  uf  • 
civilized  race. 

6.  The  Oiages.  This  tribe  is  indigenous,  and  formerly  owned  a 
large  part  of  the  territory  which  is  now  assigned  to  others.  Their  habits 
and  condition  have  been,  however,  but  little  benefited  by  the  use  which 
they  have  made  of  their  annuities.  Great  exertions  have  been  made  by 
the  local  ugents  to  induce  them  to  give  up  their  erratic  mode  of  life, 
and  become  agriculturists.  To  this  end  stock  and  agricultural  imple- 
ments have  been  furnished  them,  and  other  facilities  given,  but  without 
any  general  efFects.  Among  these  may  be  named  the  building  of  mills, 
and  the  erection  of  well  built  cabins  for  their  chiefs.  There  is  no  tribe 
to  which  the  term  predatory  may  be  so  appropriately  applied  as  to  the 
Osagps.  They  have,  from  an  early  day,  been  plunderers  on  that  fron- 
tier, amcng  red  and  white  men.  Posse.ssing  a  large  territory,  formerly 
well  supplied  with  the  deer,  elk  and  buffalo,  powerful  in  numbers,  cou- 
rageous in  spirit,  and  enjoying  one  of  the  finest  climates,  these  early 
predatory  habits  have  been  transmitted  to  the  present  day.  They  are 
loth  to  relinquish  this  wild  license  of  the  prairies — the  so-called  free- 
dom of  the  roving  Indian.  But  it  is  a  species  of  freedom  which  the 
settlement  of  Missouri  and  Arkansas,  and  the  in-gathering  of  the  semi- 
civilized  tribes  from  the  south  and  the  north,  has  greatly  restricted. 
Game  has  become  comparatively  scarce.  The  day  of  the  hunter  is  well 
nigh  past  in  those  longitudes.  When  to  this  is  added  the  example  of 
the  expatriated  Indians,  in  tillage  and  grazing,  their  field  labors  in 
fencing  and  erecting  houses,  their  improved  modes  of  dress,  their 
schools,  and  their  advanced  state  of  government  and  laws,  ihe  hope 
may  be  indulged  that  the  Osages  will  also  be  stimulated  to  enter  for  the 
prize  of  civilisation. 

Such  are  the  six  principal  tribes  who  form  the  nucleus,  or,  to  use  a 
military  phrase,  the  right  wing  of  the  expatriated  aboriginal  population, 
as  the  bands  are  arranged  in  their  order  from  south  to  north,  in  the 
trans-Ozark  or  Indian  territory.  It  would  afford  us  pleasure  to  devote 
some  separate  considerations  to  each  of  the  remaining  nineteen  tribes  and 
half  tribes,  or  remnants  and  pioneers  of  tribes,  who  make  up  this  impos- 
ing and  interesting  colony,  where,  for  the  first  time  since  the  settlement 
of  the  Continent,  the  Indian  race  is  presented  in  an  independent,  com- 
pact, and  pro.sperous  condition.  But  it  would  manifestly  extend  this 
article  beyond  its  just  limits,  and  we  must  therefore  generalize  our  re- 
maining notices. 

We  si  ill,  however,  adhere  to  a  geographical  method.  The  Senccas 
from  Sandusky,  and  the  mixed  Senecas  and  Shawnees,  are  situated 
oorthcafit  of  the  Cherokees,  and  between  the  latter  and  the  western 


INb.AN   FOLIOY. 


386 


boundary  of  Missouri.  They  possess  a  hundred  thousand  acres  of  choice 
lands.  The  Sanduskies  number  251  souls  ;  the  mixed  band,  222.  They 
are  represented  as  farmers  and  stock-raisers,  frugal,  industrious,  and  less 
addicted  to  intemperance  than  their  neighbors.  They  cultivated,  in 
1839,  from  two  hundred  and  hfty  to  three  hundred  acres  of  corn.  They 
have  a  blacksmith'^  shop,  under  treaty  stipulations,  and  possess  good 
■tocks  of  horses,  cattle,  and  hogs.  The  Quapaws  adjoin  the  Senecas 
and  Shawnees  on  the  north,  and,  as  the  latter,  have  their  kinds  fronting 
on  the  Neosho.  This  band  formerly  owned  and  ceded  the  south  banks 
of  the  Arkansas  from  its  mouth  as  high  as  the  Canadian  fork.  They  are 
indolent,  much  addicted  to  the  use  of  ardent  spirits,  and  depressed  in 
numbers.  They  have  a  tract  of  96,000  acres.  They  cultivate,  generally, 
about  one  hundred  acres  of  corn,  in  a  slovenly  manner.  Part  of  their 
numbers  are  seated  on  the  waters  of  Red  River,  and  the  Indian  predilec- 
tion for  rowing  is  nourished  by  the  frequent  habit  of  passing  to  and  fro. 
This  erratic  habit  is  an  unerring  test  of  the  hunter  state. 

The  Piankashaws  and  Weas  are  of  the  Miami  stock,  and  came  from 
the  waters  of  the  Wabash.  They  are  located  on  255  sections,  immedi- 
ately west  of  the  western  boundary  of  Missouri,  and  about  40  miles 
south  of  the  Konza.  Their  population  is  384,  of  which  222  are  Weas. 
Immediately  west  of  them  are  the  Peorias  and  Kaskaskias  of  the  Illinois 
family.  They  number  132,  and  possess  150  sections,  which  gives  an 
average  of  more  than  a  square  mile  to  each  soul.  Still  west  of  these, 
are  the  Ottowas  of  Ohio,  about  200  in  number,  and  above  them,  a  small 
band  of  61  of  the  Chippewas  of  Swan  Creek  and  Black  River  in  Michi- 
gan. These  locations  are  all  on  the  sources  of  the  Osage  River.  The 
lands  are  fine,  partly  woods  and  partly  prairie,  and  are  easily  cultivated. 
These  six  fragmentary  bands  are  not  dissimilar  in  their  habits  of  living 
and  the  state  of  their  advance  in  agriculture.  They  subsist  themselves 
by  raising  corn  and  cattle  and  hogs.  They  evince  an  advancing  condi- 
tion, and  are  surrounded  by  circumstances  eminently  favorable  to  it. 

The  Shawnees  are  placed  at  the  junction  of  the  Konza  with  the  Mis- 
souri, extending  south  and  west.  They  number  a  little  short  of  1300, 
and  own  a  territory  of  ten  thousand  square  miles,  or  6,400,000  acres. 
They  are  cultivators  and  graziers  in  an  advanced  state  of  improvement. 
Hunting  may  be  occasionally  resorted  to  as  a  sport  or  amusement,  but  it 
has,  years  since,  been  abandoned  as  a  source  of  subsistence.  Indeed, 
the  failure  of  the  game  in  that  region  would  have  rendered  the  latter  im- 
perative, had  not  their  improved  habits  of  industry  led  to  it.  This  tribe 
have  essentially  conquered  their  aversion  to  labor.  They  drive  oxen 
and  horses  trained  to  the  plough.  They  split  rails  and  build  fences. 
They  erect  substantial  cabins  and  barns.  They  have  old  corn  in  theii 
eribs  from  year  to  year     They  own  good  saddle-horsea  and  saddles,  and 


:!    '1 


35 


386 


INDIAN    POLICY. 


other  articles  of  caparison,  and  a  traveller  or  visitor  will  find  a  good  meal, 
a  clean  bed,  and  kind  treatment  in  their  settlements. 

Next  in  position  to  the  Shawnees  are  the  Dclawares,  the  descend- 
ants of  the  ancient  Lenno  Lenapees  of  Pennsylvania.  Allies  and  kin- 
dred in  their  ancient  position,  they  are  still  in  juxtaposition  in  their  new 
Their  tract  begins  at  the  junction  of  the  Konza  and  Missouri  on  the 
north,  and  after  running  up  the  former  to  the  Konza  reserve,  extends 
north  aiul  west  so  us  to  embrace  it  on  the  north.  It  contains  about 
12450  square  miles,  or  2,208,000  acres.  They  number,  at  the  last  dates 
to  which  we  have  referred,  826  souls,  and  are  on  the  increase.  In  point 
of  habits,  industry,  and  improvement,  they  are  perhaps  not  inferior  to 
any  of  the  northern  stocks.  Shielded  from  intemperance  by  their  posi- 
tion, out  of  the  State  limits,  where  they  are  exclusively  under  the  influ- 
ence and  protection  of  Congress  laws,  this  tribe,  together  with  the  entire 
circle  of  Indian  communities  on  that  frontier,  has  been  for  some  years 
in  a  favourable  position  for  recovering  and  developing  their  true  energies. 
Thoy  have,  within  a  few  years,  received  into  their  protection  a  small 
band  (182)  of  the  Monceys,and  asmalier  one, of  74,  of  the  Stockbridges  : 
the  latter,  we  need  hardly  inform  the  intelligent  reader,  are  descendants 
nf  the  ancient  Moheguns,  and  the  former  of  the  Minsi  and  Minnisinks, 
who,  at  the  era  of  the  colonizaflon  of  "  No-va  Belgica"  and  New  York, 
were  respectively  located  on  the  east  and  the  west  banks  of  the  Hudson. 
The  Stockbridges  arc  civilized  ;  the  Munsees  less  so,  but  industrious. 
Both  are  poor,  and  without  funds. 

Immediately  succeeding  the  Delawares  are  tne  Kickapoos,  an  erratic 
race,  who,  under  various  name,^,  in  connection  with  the  Foxes  and  Sacs, 
have,  in  good  keeping  with  one  of  their  many  names,*  skipped  over  half 
the  continent,  to  the  manifest  discomfort  of  both  German  and  American 
philologists  and  ethnographers,  who, in  searching  for  the  so-called  "  Mas- 
cotins,"  have  followed,  so  far  as  their  results  are  concerned,  an  ignis 
fatuits.  The  Kickapoos  have  12,000  square  miles,  or  768,000  acres, 
't  is  a  choice,  rich  tract,  and  they  are  disposed,  with  the  example  of  the 
Delewares  and  Shawnees,  to  profit  by  it.  They  raise  corn  and  cattle, 
hogs  and  horses,  and  are  prosperous.  Their  numbers,  in  1840,  were 
470.  There  is  a  tract  of  200  square  miles,  on  the  Great  and  Little 
Namaha,  assigned  to  the  metifs,  or  descendants  of  mixed  blood,  of  the 
lowas,  Otoes,  and  Missouris.  These  separate  the  removed  and  semi- 
civilized  tribes,  south  and  west  of  the  Missouri,  fuom  the  wild  indige- 
nes— we  mean  the  Otoes,  the  Pawnees,  the  Omahaws,  and  the  Sioux, 
who  extend  over  vast  tracts,  and  exist  without  any  sensible  improve- 
ment in  tiieir  condition.  The  same  remark  may  be  applied  to  the  Kon- 
zas,  who  are,  however,  hemmed  in  between  the  Delawares  and  the 


*  This  is  said,  by  one  inteipretation,  to  mean  Rabbit's  Ghost 


INDIAN   POLICY. 


387 


Shawnpcs,  except  on  their  western  borders.  It  is  no  part  ot  our  purpose 
to  consider  these  tribes,  us,  over  ond  above  the  influence  of  contiguous 
examples,  they  constitute  no  part  of  the  evidence  affecting  the  general 
question  of  th(!  jilau  of  removal. 

That  this  evidence,  as  now  briefly  sketched,  is  favorable,  and  indeed 
highly  favorable,  to  the  general  condition  and  prosperity  of  the  removed 
tribes,  is,  we  apprehend,  clearly  manifest  Not  only  have  they  been 
placed  beyond  the  wasting  influence  of  causes  which  oppressed  tluiii, 
within  the  circle  of  the  State  communities  ;  but  they  have  received  in 
exchange  for  their  eastern  lands,  a  territory  which,  as  a  whole,  is  highly 
fertile  and  salubrious.  It  is  a  territory  which  has  required  little  comi)a- 
rative  labor  to  cultivate,  made  up  as  it  is  of  mixed  forests  and  prairies. 
It  is  also,  viewed  in  extensn,  well  watered,  having  those  noble  streams, 
the  Red  River,  the  Arkansas,  the  Konza,  the  Platte,  and  the  Misiouri, 
with  their  tributaries,  running  through  it.  The  range  which  it  aflbrtls 
for  cattle  and  stock,  and  the  abundance  of  wild  hay,  of  a  nutritious  qual- 
ity, has  proved  very  favorable  to  an  incipient  agricultural  population,  an! 
greatly  mitigated  tlu;  ordinary  labors  of  f\irming  in  northern  clim.Ue.-. 
There  are  no  latitudes  in  North  America  more  favorable  to  the  gro\vt!i 
of  corn.  The  cotton  plant  has  been  introduced  by  the  Choctaws  an  I 
Ghickasaws,  on  the  banks  of  Red  river.  It  is  a  region  abounding  in  sail 
springs  and  gypsum  btvls,  both  which  must  hereafter  be  fully  developed, 
and  will  prove  highly  advantageous.  It  is  above  the  first  or  princi]);;! 
rapids  of  the  great  streams  running  down  the  plateau  of  the  Rocky  Moun- 
tains, and  consecpiently  afibrds  sites  for  water-mills,  which  are  scarce 
and  almost  unknown  on  the  lower  Arkans.vs.  There  is,  indeed,  a  com- 
bination of  circumstances,  which  are  calculated  to  fiwor  the  General 
Government  plan,  and  foster  the  Indians  in  a  general  attempt  at  civilis:)- 
tion  and  self-government.  An  1  we  look  with  interest,  and  not  without 
anxiety,  at  the  result  of  the  experiment. 

We  are  aware  that  there  are  trials  before  them,  arising  from  great 
diversity  of  feelings  and  opinions,  ami  statrs  of  civilisation.  Some  of 
the  tribes  nre  powerful,  advanced,  and  wealthy;  some  feeble  and  poor. 
Education  has  very  unequally  afTectcd  them.  Laws  are  in  their  embryo 
state.  The  Gospel  has  been  but  partially  introduced.  In  clothing  the 
native  councils  with  some  of  ihe  powers  "f  a  congresi,  and  regulating 
their  action  by  constitutional  fixity,  there  is  great  care  and  deliberation 
required,  not,  at  once,  to  grasp  too  much.  There  is  perhaps  yet  greater 
danger  in  enl.'M-ging  the  authority  of  the  chiefs  and  sagamores  into  some- 
thino'  like  presidential  dimensions.  The  natives  have  great  powers  of 
imitation ;  and  it  is  to  be  feared  that  they  will  content  themselves  by 
imitating  things  which  they  do  not  fully  understand  rr  appreciate.  The 
national  character  of  the  Indians  is  eminently  suspicious.  There  is  a 
fear  to  trust  others,  even  themselves.      Delegated  power  is  narrowly 


388 


INDIAN    POLICY. 


watched,  ar.d  often  begrudged  wlicn  given.  The  act*  of  their  public 
men  are  uniforntly  impugned.  The  thought  seems  hardly  to  be  enter- 
tained by  the  common  IndianM,  that  an  ofTicer  may  be  guided  by  right 
and  honest  motives.  The  principle  of  suspicion  has,  so  to  say,  eaten  out 
the  Indian  heart.  The  jealousy  with  which  he  has  watched  the  white 
man,  in  all  periods  of  his  history,  is  but  of  a  piece  with  that  with  which  he 
watches  his  chii-fs,  his  nei<rhbors,  and  his  very  family.  Exaltation  of 
feeling,  liberality  of  sentiment,  justness  of  reasoning,  a  spirit  of  conces- 
sion, and  that  noble  faith  and  trust  which  arise  from  purity  and  virtue, 
are  the  characteristics  of  civilisation  ;  and  we  should  not  be  disappointed 
if  they  do  not,  all  at  once,  grow  and  flourish  in  these  nascent  communi- 
ties. Still,  our  hopes  predominate  over  our  fears.  Where  so  much  has 
been  accomplished  as  we  see  by  the  Cherokees,  the  Choctaws,  and 
Chickasaws,  and  our  most  advanced  northern  tribes,  we  expect  more. 
From  the  tree  that  bears  blossoms,  we  expect  fruit. 

We  have  no  expectation,  however,  that  without  some  principles  of 
general  political  association,  the  tribes  can  permanently  advance.  To 
assume  the  character  and  receive  the  respect  of  a  commonwealth,  they 
must  have  the  political  bonds  of  a  commonwealth.  Our  Indian  tribes  have 
never  possessed  any  of  these  bonds.  They  are  indeed  the  apparent  rem- 
nants of  old  races,  which  have  been  shivered  into  fragments,  and  never 
found  the  capacity  to  re-unite.  The  constant  tendency  of  all  things, 
in  a  state  of  nature,  has  been  to  divide.  The  very  immensity  of  the  con- 
tinent, its  varied  fertility  and  resources,  and  its  grand  and  wild  features, 
led  to  this.  Hitherto,  the  removed  tribes  in  the  West  have  opposed  an 
associated  government.  They  have  stoutly  and  effectually  resisted  and 
rejected  this  part  of  the  government  scheme.  They  fear,  the  agents 
say,  it  is  some  plan  to  bring  them  under  the  civil  yoke.  Time,  reflec- 
tion, and  education  must  tend  to  correct  this.  More  than  all,  their  civil 
dissensions  must  tend  to  show  the  necessity  of  a  more  enlarged  and  gen- 
eral frame  of  government,  in  which  some  individual  rights  must  be  yield- 
ed to  the  public,  to  secure  the  enjoyment  of  the  rest.  We  think  there 
is  some  evidence  of  the  acknowledgment  of  this  want,  in  their  occasional 
general  councils,  at  which  all  the  tribes  have  been  invited  to  be  present. 
During  the  last  year  (1843)  such  a  convocation  was  held  at  Tahlequah, 
the  siMt  of  the  Cherokee  government.  At  this,  there  were  delegates 
pres(>nt  from  the  Creeks,  Chickasaws,  Delawares,  Shawnees,  Pianka- 
shaws,  VVeas,  Osa<;es,  Senecas,  Stockbridges,  Ottowas,  Chippewas, 
Peorias,  Pottowattomies,  and  Seminoles  The  result  of  these  delibera- 
tions, we  are  informed,  was  a  compact  in  which  it  was  agreed  : — 

1.  To  maintain  peace  and  friendship  among  each  other. 

2.  To  abstain  from  the  law  of  retaliation  for  offences. 

3.  To  provide  for  improvements  in  agriculture,  the  arts,  and  manu* 
&ctures. 


INPIAN   POLICY. 


39D 


4.  To  provide  against  any  cession  uf  their  territory,  in  any  furiu. 
A.  To  puni«h  Crimea,  committed  by  one  tribe,   in  thu  bounds  of 
another. 

6.  To  provide  for  a  general  •'itizenahip  n'liong  the  contracting  parties. 

7.  To  !<Ujipri'ss  the  use  or  iuu  i  lii<  tion  of  ardent  spirits. 

The»e  ure  very  mixed  principleti,  cuiituinin^  no  basis  ufu  government  ; 
yet,  futile  as  they  are,  we  apprehend  they  contain  no  efl'eclive  jnover 
for  their  enforcement.  A  law  without  a  penalty  is  like  a  rope  of  sand. 
Any  of  these  parties  might  nullify  either  of  these  acts,  by  ne^leetinj; 
to  enforce  it.  It  is,  we  appiehend,  the  mere  expression  of  tiie  popiiUr 
will,  in  a  council,  without  any  binding  obligation  uf  the  whole,  or  ii  ma- 
jority  of  the  tribes,  to  compel  obedience  from  the  delinquent  inenib>  ra. 
It  may,  however,  lead  to  further  deliberations  ;  and  we  cannot  but  re<;iird 
the  movement  as  one  which  betokens  political  forethought  and  purpose. 

Our  greatest  apprehensions,  we  must  confess,  before  clu;>ing  this  paper, 
arise  from  the  peculiar  geographical  position  of  the  Indian  territory  with 
relation  to  our  own.  And  this  could  not,  perhaps,  have  been  anticipated 
twenty  years  ago,  when  the  plan  was  formed.  Our  population  is  on  the 
broad  move  west.  Nothing,  it  is  evident,  will  now  repress  them  this  side 
of  the  Pacific.  The  snowy  heights  of  the  Rocky  Mountains  uru  already 
scaled  ;  and  we  but  apply  the  results  of  the  past  to  the  future,  in  saying 
that  the  path  which  has  been  trod  hy  a  few,  will  be  trod  Ly  many.  Now, 
the  removed  tribes  are  precisely  in  the  centre  of  this  path.  From  the 
mouth  of  the  Platte,  or  the  Konza,  the  great  highway  to  the  Oregon 
must  run  west.  Whether  this  new  tide  of  emigration  will  be  successful 
or  unsuccessful,  will  those  who  compose  it  spare  to  trample  on  the  red 
man  .'  Will  they  suddenly  become  kind  to  him,  to  whom  they  have 
been  unkind  ?  Will  they  cease  to  desire  the  lands  which  their  children 
want  ?  Will  they  consent  to  see  the  nation  separated  by  an  Indian 
state  ?  Will  they  award  honors,  nay,  justice,  to  that  state  .'  Twenty 
years  will  answer  these  questions. 


Choctaws.— An  appropriation  of  $113,000  has  been  made  by  Con- 
gress for  the  removal  and  subsistence  of  ihe  Choctaws  now  in  IVIissis- 
sippi.  There  are  upwards  of  six  thousand  in  our  state,  comprising 
about  eleven  hundred  families.  These  are  under  Colonels  Johnson  and 
Fisher.  The  half  of  the  money  due  the  Indians,  and  to  be  paid  after 
their  landing  in  their  new  homes  in  the  West,  ii  to  be  funded.  This 
will  eflcctually  prevent  all  speculation,  and  enable  the  Indians  to  obtain 
and  hold  what  is  due  them.  Those  now  in  the  state  are  guarded  againsi 
all  coercive  measures  for  their  removal,  and  left  free  to  go  West  or 
remain  in  their  homes  in  Mississippi. — Southern  Rvfonncr. 


!  I' 


NURSERY  AND  CRADLE  SONGS  OF  THE  FOREST. 


The  tickenagun,  or  Indian  cradle,  is  an  object  of  great  pride  witii  an 
Indian  mother.  She  gets  the  finest  kind  of  broad  cloth  she  possibly  can 
to  make  an  outer  swathing  band  for  it,  and  spares  no  pains  in  ornament- 
ing it  with  beads  and  ribbons,  worked  in  various  figures.  In  the  lodges 
of  those  who  can  aflTord  it,  there  is  no  article  more  showy  and  pretty  than 
the  full  bound  cradle.  The  frame  of  the  cradle  itself  is  a  curiosity.  It 
consists  of  three  pieces.  The  vertebral  board,  which  supports  the  back, 
the  hoop  or  foot-board,  which  extends  tapering  up  each  side,  and  the  arch 
or  bow,  which  springs  from  each  side,  and  protects  the  face  and  head. 
These  are  tied  together  with  deer's  sinews  or  pegged.  The  whole  struc- 
ture is  very  light,  and  is  carved  with  a  knife  by  the  men,  out  of  the  linden 
or  maple  tree. 

Moss  coiistit'itcs  the  bed  of  the  infant,  and  is  also  put  between  the  child's 
feet  to  keep  them  apart  and  adjust  the  shape  of  them,  according  to  custom. 
A  one-point  blanket  of  the  irade,  is  the  general  and  immediate  wrapper  of 
the  infant,  within  the  hoop,  and  the  ornamented  swathing  band  is  wound 
around  the  whole,  and  gives  it  no  little  rescmblauco  to  the  case  of  a  small 
mummy.  As  the  bow  passes  directly  above  the  face  and  eyes,  tiinlccts 
are  often  hung  upon  this,  to  amuse  it,  and  the  chill  gets  its  first  ideas  of 
ornament  from  these.  The  hands  are  generally  bound  down  witii  the 
body,  and  only  let  out  occasionally,  the  head  ami  neck  being  the  only  part 
which  is  actually  free.  So  bound  and  laced,  hooped  and  bowed,  the  little 
fabric,  with  its  ininato,  is  cap:il)Ie  of  being  swung  on  its  nidtlier'.s  l):icli,  and 
carried  through  the  thickest  forest  without  injury.  Should  it  even  (iill  no 
injury  can  happen.  The  bow  protects  the  only  exposed  part  of  the  fiaine. 
Anil  when  she  stops  to  rest,  or  enters  the  lodge,  it  can  be  set  asiile  like  any 
other  lioiisrIiolJ  article,  or  hung  up  by  the  cradle  sinip  on  a  [leg.  Nothing, 
indeed,  could  be  better  adapted  to  the  exigencies  of  the  forest  life.  And  in 
such  tiny  fabrics,  so  crainped  anil  bound,  and  liedecked  and  tiinketed, 
their  famous  Pontiacs  and  King  Philips,  and  other  prime  warriors,  were 
once  carriril.  notwitlist.iniling  the  skill  they  afterwards  acquired  in  wield- 
ing the  lance  an  1  war  club. 

The  Indian  child,  in  truth,  takes  its  first  lesson  in  the  art  of  imdiirancc, 
in  the  cradlt\  WIumi  it  cries  it  need  not  be  unbuund  to  nurse  it.  If  the 
mother  be  youir-,-.  she  must  put  it  to  sleep  herself  If  she  have  younger 
sisters  or  daughters  they  share  this  care  with  her.  If  the  lodge  be  roomy 
and  high,  as  lodges  sometimes  are,  the  cradle  is  suspended  to  the  top  polis 

390 


CRADLE   SONOS   OF   THE    FOREST. 


391 


to  be  swung.  If  not,  or  the  weather  be  fine,  it  is  tied  to  the  limb  of  n 
tree,  with  small  cords  made  from  the  inner  bark  of  the  linden,  and  a  vi- 
bratory motion  given  to  it  from  head  to  foot  by  the  mother  or  some  attcn- 
tiant.  Tile  motion  thus  communicated,  is  that  of  the  penduhmi  or  com- 
mon swing,  and  may  L\3  supposed  to  be  the  easiest  and  most  agreeable 
possible  to  the  child.  It  is  from  this  motion  that  the  leading  idea  of  tlie 
cradle  song  is  taken. 

I  havo  often  seen  the  red  mother,  or  perhaps  a  sister  of  the  child,  lei- 
surely swinging  a  pretty  ornamented  cradle  to  and  fro  in  this  way,  in 
order  to  put  the  child  to  sleep,  or  simply  to  amuse  it.  The  following  spc 
cimens  of  these  wild-wood  chaunts,  or  wigwam  lullabys,  are  taken  from 
my  notes  upon  this  subject,  during  many  years  of  familiar  intercourse  with 
the  aboriginals.  If  they  are  neither  numerous  nor  attractive,  placed  side 
by  side  with  the  rich  nursery  stores  of  more  refined  life,  it  is  yet  a  plea- 
sant fact  to  have  found  such  things  even  existing  at  all  amongst  a  people 
supposed  to  possess  so  few  of  the  amenities  of  life,  and  to  have  so  little 
versatility  of  character. 

Meagre  as  these  specimens  seem,  they  yet  involve  no  small  degree  of 
philological  diligence,  as  nothing  can  be  more  delicate  than  the  inflexions 
of  these  pretty  chaunts,  and  the  Indian  woman,  like  her  white  sister,  gives 
a  delicacy  of  intonation  to  the  roughest  words  of  her  language.  The 
term  wa-wa  often  introduced  denotes  a  wave  of  the  air,  or  the  circle  des- 
cribed by  the  motion  of  an  object  through  it,  as  we  say,  swing,  swing,  a 
term  never  applied  to  a  wave  of  water.  The  latter  is  callec  tegoo,  or  if  it 
be  crowned  with  foam,  beta. 

In  introducing  the  suijoincd  specimens  of  these  simple  see  saws  of  the 
lodge  and  foresi  chaunts,  the  writer  felt,  that  they  wire  almost  too  fiail  of 
structure  to  be  ti usted,  without  a  gentle  hand,  amidst  his  rougher  mateii;ils. 
He  is  permitted  to  say,  in  regard  tnlhem,  that  they  have  heen  exiiiliitcd  to 
Mrs.  Elizabeth  Oakes  Smith,  herself  a  refined  enthusiast  of  the  uoo.ls, 
and  that  the  versions  from  the  original  given,  are  from  her  chaste  and 
truthful  pen. 

In  the  ibllowing  anch  little  song,  the  reader  has  only  to  imagine  a  play- 
ful girl  trying  to  put  a  restless  child  to  sleep,  who  pokes  its  little  head,  with 
black  hair  and  keen  eyes  over  the  side  of  the  cradle,  and  the  girl  si'igs, 
imitating  its  own  piping  tones. 


Ah  wa  nain  ? 
Ah  wa  nain? 
Wa  yau  was  sa — 
Ko  pwasod. 


(Whiisthis?) 

(Who  is  this?) 

(Ciiving  light — meaning  the  light  of  the  eye) 

(On  die  top  of  my  lodge.) 


Who  is  this?  who  is  this?  eye-light  bringing 
To  the  roof  of  the  lodge  ? 


392 


CRADLE   SONGS    OF   TIIF.    FOREST. 


And  then  she  assumes  the  tone  of  the  little  screech  owl,  and  answers— 
Kob  kob  kob  (it  is  I— the  little  owl) 

Nim  be  e  zhau  (Coming,) 

Kob  kob  kob  (It  is  I— the  little  owl) 

Nim  be  e  zhau  (Coming,) 

Kit  che — kit  che.  (Down  I  down !) 

It  is  I,  it  is  I,  hither  swinging,        (wa  wa) 
Dodge,  dodge,  baby  dodge  ; 

And  she  springs  towards  it  and  down  goes  the  little  head.     This  is 
repeated  with  the  utmost  merriment  upon  both  sides. 

Who  is  this,  who  is  this  ej-i -liijtit  bringing 

To  the  roof  of  my  lodge  >. 
It  is  I,  it  is  I,  hither  swing! no;, 

Dodge,  dodge,  baby  dodgo. 

Here  is  another,  slower  and  monotonuas,  but  indicating  the  utmoflt 
nviternal  content : 

Swinging,  swinging,  lul  la  by. 

Sleep,  liuie  daughter  sleep, 
'Tis  your  mother  watching  by, 

Swinging,  swinging  she  will  keep, 
Little  daughter  lul  la  by. 

'Tis  your  mother  loves  you  dearest. 

Sleep,  sleep,  daughter  sleep. 
Swinging,  swinging,  ever  nearest, 

Biiby,  baby,  do  not  weep; 
Little  daughter,  lul  la  by. 

Swinging,  swinging,  lul  la  by, 

Sleep,  sleep,  little  one. 
And  thy  mother  will  be  nigh — 

Swing,  swing,  not  alone — 
Little  daughter,  lul  la  by.  ' 

This  of  course  is  exceedingly  simple,  hut  be  it  remembered  these 
chaunts  are  nlvvnys  so  in  the  most  refiiud  life.  'I'he  idens  are  the  same, 
that  of  tenderness  and  protective  cure  only,  the  ideiis  being  few,  the  Ian- 
gunge  is  in  nccordance.  To  my  mind  it  l);is  l)een  a  matter  of  e.xtreme 
interest  to  observe  how  almost  identical  .are  the  expressions  of  aflt'Clion  in 
all  states  of  society,  as  thoiisrh  lliise  primitive  elements  admit  of  no  pro- 
gress, but  are  perfect  m  themselves.  The  e-\vc-yea  of  the  Indian  woman 
is  entirely  analogous  to  the  lul  la  by  of  our  language,  and  will  be  seen  to 
be  exceedingly  pretty  In  itself. 


CRADLE   SONGS   OF  THE  FOREST. 


393 


iswera— 
1) 

.1) 


This  is 


I 


the  utmoflt 


2.  The  original  words  of  this,  with  their  literal  import,  are  also  added, 
to  preserve  the  identity. 

(a.) 
Wa  wa — wa  wa — wa  we  yea,    (Swinging,  twice,  lullaby.) 
Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun,     (Sleep  thou,  thrice.) 
Nedaunis-ais,  e  we  yea,     (Little  daughter,  lullaby.) 
Wa  wa — wa  wa — wa  wa,    (Swinging,  thrice.) 
Nedaunis-ais,  e  we  yea,     (Little  daughter  lullaby.) 

(b.) 
Keguh,  ke  gun  ah  wain  e  ma,     (Your  mothtr  cares  for  you.) 
Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun,  e  we  yea,     (Sleep,  thrice,  lullaby.) 
Kago,  saigizze-kain,  nedaunis-ais,    (Do  not  fear,  my  little  daughter.) 
Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun,    (Sleep,  thrice.) 
Kago,  saigizze-kain,  wa  wa,  e  we  yea,     (third  line  repeated.) 

(c.) 

Wa  wa — wa  wa — wa  we  yea,    (Swinging,  twice,  lullaby.) 

Kaween  neezheka  kediausee,    (Not  alone  art  thou.) 

Ke  kan  nau  wai,  ne  me  go,  suhwern,  (Your  mother  is  caring  for  you.) 

Nebaun — nebaun — neJaunis-ais,     (Sieep,  sleep,  my  little  daughter.) 

Wa  wa — wa  wa — wa  we  yea,    (Swinging,  &c.  lullaby.) 

Nebaun — nebaun — nebaun,     (Sleep  I  sleep  I  sleep.*) 


ered  those 

the  same, 

\v,  the  Ian- 

if  extreme 

fitction  in 

of  no  pro- 

an  woman 

bo  seen  to 


THE   HARE   AND   THE   LYNX. 

3.  The  story  of  the  Wabose,  (Hare,)  and  the  Pighieu,  (Lynx.)  will  at 
once  remind  the  reader  of  the  so  often  recited  tale  of  little  Red  Hiding 
Hood,  in  which  the  reciter  imitatos  the  tones  of  the  wolf,  and  the  little  nur- 
sery listener  hears  with  a  growing  amazement,  and  starts  as  if  he  felt 
the  real  wolf's  teeth  at  the  close. 

This  story  is  partly  spoken  and  partly  sung.  The  Teller  imitating  al- 
ternately the  Hare,  and  its  enemy,  the  Lynx. 

There  was  once,  she  says,  a  little  Hare  living  in  the  lodge  with  its  gr.nnd- 
mother,  who  was  about  to  send  it  back  to  its  native  land.  When  it  had 
gone  but  a  little  way,  a  Lynx  appeared  in  the  path,  and  began  to  sing, 

•  These  translations  are  entirely  literal — tlie  verbs  to  "  sleep"  and  to  "  fear,"  requir- 
ing the  imperative  mood,  second  [htsoii,  present  tense,  tlirongiiout.  In  rendering  the  term 
"  wa-wa"  ill  the  participial  fonn  some  doubt  may  exi."*!,  but  this  has  been  terminated  by  the 
idea  of  the  cxinlinp  niolion,  which  i.s  clearly  implied,  ullhongh  the  word  is  not  marked 
by  the  usual  form  of  (he  participle  iii  ins.  Tl'e  pliriisc  lul-la-by,  is  the  only  one  in  our 
laniruage,  which  conveys  the  evident  meanin.n;  of  the  choral  lenn  e-vve-yea.  The  sub- 
•tantive  verb  \s  wantiii};,  hi  the  first  rne  of  b.  and  the  third  of  c.  in  the  two  forms  o' 
the  verb,  to  care, or  take  care  of  a  person  ;  but  it  is  presr.nt  In  the  phrase  "kediausee" 
in  the  second  line  of  e.  These  fads  are  slaled,  not  thai  they  are  of  the  slijrhtest  inte- 
rest to  the  commnn  n^ader,  but  that  they  may  be  e.\uiii''icd  by  philologists,  or  perMM 
curious  in  the  Indian  (rrauimar. 


J  \\ 


I! 


394 


CRADLE   SONGS   OF   THE   FOREST. 


Where  pretty  white  one  ? 
Where  little  white  one, 
Where  do  you  go  ? 

Tshwee!  tshwee!  tshweel  tshweel  cried  the  Hare,  and  ran  back  to 
its  grandmother.  "See,  grandmother,"  said  the  timid  little  creature, 
"what  the  Lynx  is  saying  to  me,"  and  she  repeated  the  song.  "Hoi 
Nosis,"  that  is  to  say,  courage  my  grandchild,  run  along,  and  tell  him  you 
are  going  home  to  your  native  land:  so  the  Hare  went  back  and  be- 
gan to  sing. 

To  the  point  of  land  I  roam. 
For  tlMsre  is  the  white  one's  home, — 
Whither  I  go. 

Then  the  Lynx  looked  at  the  trembling  Hare,  and  began  to  sing, 

Little  white  one,  tell  me  why 
Like  to  leather,  thin  and  dry, 
Are  your  pretty  ears  ? 

Tshweel  tshwee!  tshwee!  tshwee!  cried  the  Hare, and  she  ran  back 
to  her  grarulmother,  and  repeated  the  words.  "  Go  Nosis,  and  tell  him 
your  uncles  fixed  them  so,  when  they  came  from  the  South."  So 
the  Hare  ran  back  and  sang. 

From  the  south  my  uncles  came. 
And  they  fixed  my  ears  the  same, — 
Fixed  my  slender  ears. 

and  then  the  Hare  laid  her  pink  ears  upon  her  shoulders,  and  was  about 
to  go  on,  but  the  Lynx  began  to  sing  again, — 

Why,  why  do  you  go  away? 
Pretty  white  one,  can't  you  stay  ? 
Tell  me  why  your  little  feet. 
Are  made  so  dry  and  very  fleet? 

Tshwee!  tshwee!  tshwee!  tshwee!  said  tiie  poor  little  Fiare,  and  she 
ran  back  again  to  the  lodge  to  ask  again.  "Ho!  Nosis!"  s:iii|  the  grand- 
mother, who  was  old  and  tired,  "do  not  mind  hitn,  nor  listen  to  him,  nor 
answer  him,  but  run  on." 

The  Hare  obeyed,  and  ran  as  fast  as  she  could.  When  she  came  to 
the  spot  where  the  Lynx  had  been,  she  looked  round,  but  there  was  no 
one  there,  and  she  ran  on.  But  the  Lynx  had  found  out  nil  about  the 
little  H:ire,  and  knew  she  was  going  across  to  the  nook  of  land  :  and  he 
had  nothing  to  do  but  reach  it  first,  and  waylay  her  ;  which  ho  did  :  and 
when  the  innocent  creature  came  to  the  place,  and  had  got  almost  home, 
the  Lynx  sprang  out  of  the  thicket  and  eat  her  up. 


CRADLE    SONGS   OF   THE   FOREST. 


395 


The  original  chant,  omitting  the  narrative  part  as  given  above,  runs  in 
(his  fashion,  word  for  word. 


Lynx.       Tah  kau 

Tah  hau 

Wa  bose 

Wa  boss 

Ke  te  e  zha 
Hare.       Na  kwa  oushing 

Ain  dah  nuk  e  aurn  baun 

In  de  e  zha 
Lyn.x.       Au  neen 

Au  neen 

A  nau  be  kaus  o  yun  aig 

Kish  ke  mun  ing 

Ish  0  tow  ug  a  una, 
Hare.        Nish  ish  sha  ug 

0  sha  wun  e  nong 
Ke  e  zha  waud 
Ninofce  aizh  e  qjoob  un  eegr 

Lynx.  Tah  kau 
Tah  kau 
Wa  hose 
Wa  bose 
Ke  de  e  zha 
A<j  neen 

Na  naub  o  kos  o  yun 
Kish  ke  tnun  a, 

1  izh  e  zida  una, 


(where  ah !) 

(where  ah  !) 

(little  white  one) 

(little  white  one) 

(are  you  going?) 

(to  the  point  of  land) 

(in  my  native  country) 

(I  go.) 

(what!) 

(what!) 

(causes  it,) 

(why  like  stripes  of  leather) 

(are  your  ears  ?) 

(my  uncles,) 

(when  from  the  south) 

(they  came,) 

(they  did  fix  me  so.) 

(where  ah  !) 

(where  ah !) 

(little  white  one,) 

(little  white  one,) 

(are  you  going  ?) 

(uhy?) 

(look  they  so,) 

(like  dry  bits  of  leather,) 

(your  feet  ha!) 


4.    TOE   KITE   AND   THE    EAGLK. 

This  is  a  specimen  ol'  Indian  satire.  The  coward  is  boastful  when 
there  is  no  danger:  pretension  succeeds  in  the  absence  of  real  merit!  A 
Kite  was  boasting  how  higli  he  could  fly,  and  ventured  to  speak  dis- 
paragingly of  the  eagle,  not  knowing  that  the  latter  overheard  him.  He 
began  to  sing  in  a  loud  voice, 

I  upward  fly 
I!  I  alone  disdain  the  air 
Till  I  hang  as  by  a  hair 

Poised  in  the  sky. 

The  Eagle  answers  disdainfully,  looking  down   from  a  branch  L 
above  the  Kite, 


r  a 


39G 


CRADLE  SONCa  OP  THE  FOREST. 


Who  mounts  the  sky  ? 
Who  is  this,  with  bnhbiing  tongue 
As  he  had  on  the  storm-cloud  hung, 

Who  flies  so  hijrh  ? 

The  Kite  in  a  shrinking,  feeble  voice, 
The  great  Khaknke 
I've  sometimes  thought  he  flew  so  high 
That  he  must  see  within  the  sky 
The  dawn  awake. 

The  Eagle  despises  him,  and  yet  cannot  forbear  to  answer^ 

I  spurn  you  all,  ye  prating  throng 
How  often  have  I  passed  ye  by 
When  my  broad  pinions  fleet  and  strong, 
Soared  up  where  leapt  the  thunder  cry  1 
Nor  ye  with  feeble  wing  might  dare, 
Those  hill-tops  high,  to  mount  in  air. 

and  he  soared  ofl;  up,  up  into  the  sky  till  the  boaster  could  not  behold 
him.  IJut  no  sooner  was  the  Kite  left  alone  to  himself  than  he  began  to 
•ing  again  so  as  to  be  heard  on  every  side, 

I  upward  fly 
I,  I  alone  disdain  the  air 
Till  I  hang  as  by  a  hair 

Poised  in  the  sky. 


(I  alone) 
(I  nlone) 
(can  go  up) 

(so  as  to  seem  as  if  hanging 
by  a  hair 


Literally  thus. 

Kite.        Neen  a 

Neen  a 

Ta  wa  e  ya 

Bai  bwau 

As  shnu  dau 

Wa  ke  ge  naun 

O  shau  wush  ko  geezhig  oong  a     (from  the  blue  sky.) 
Eagle.       Au  wa  nain  (Who  is  this?) 

Au  wa  nain  (Who  is  this?) 

Tshe  mud  je  wa  \vc    (with  babbling  totiguc,  wlio  boasts) 

Ke  pim  o  saing.  (of  flying  so  high  ?) 

Kite  (shrinkingly)  replies,  "  Oh  I  was  only  singing  of  the  great  Kha- 
kuke,  it  is  he  who  is  said  to  fly  so  high." 

Eagle  disdainfully  replies,  *'  Tshe  mud  je  wa  wa,  that  is  great  bab- 
bler, or  bad-tongue,  you  are  below  my  notice,"  &c.,  and  soars  aloft. 

Kite,  resuming  its  boasting  tone,  as  soon  a.s  the  eagle  is  out  of  hearing, 


CRADLE   SONGS   OF  THE    F0HE8T. 


397 


(I  alone  &c.,  the  whole  being  a 
repetition  of  the  first  part.) 


Neen  a 

Neen  a 

Ta  we  ya 

Bai  bwau 

As  shau  dau 

Wa  ke  ge  naun, 

O  shau  wush  ko,  geezhig  oong  a. 

5.    THE  RAVEN  AND   WOODPECKER. 

A  Still  farther  view  of  Indian  manners  and  opinions  is  hid  under  this 
simple  thant.  Opinion  among  the  forest  race,  makes  the  whole  animated 
creation  cognizant  and  intelligent  of  their  customs. 

A  young  married  woman  is  supposed  to  go  out  from  the  lodge,  and 
busy  herself  in  breaking  up  dry  limbs,  and  preparing  wood,  as  if  to  lay 
in  a  store  for  a  future  and  approaching  emergency. 

A  raven,  perched  on  a  neighbouring  tree,  espies  her,  at  her  work,  and 
begins  to  sing ;  assuming  the  expected  infant  to  be  a  boy. 

In  dosh  ke  zhig  o  mun 
In  dosh  ke  zhig  o  mun 
In  dosh  ke  zhig  o  mun 

My  eyes !  my  eyes !  my  eyes !  Alluding  to  the  boy  (and  future  man) 
killing  animals  as  well  as  men,  whose  eyes  will  be  left,  as  the  singer  anti- 
cipates, to  be  picked  out  by  ravenous  birds.  So  early  are  the  first  notions 
of  war  implanted. 

A  woodpecker,  sitting  near,  and  hearing  this  song,  replies  ;  assuming 
the  sex  of  the  infant  to  be  a  female. 

Ne  mos  sa  mug  ga 

Ne  mos  sa  mug  ga 

Ne  mos  sa  iuug  ga. 

My  worms  I  my  worms !  my  worms  I     Alluding  to  the  custor.'.  of  the 

female's  breaking  up  dry  anu  Jozy  wood,  out  of  which,  it  could  pick  its 

favourite  food,  being  the  mdsa  or  wood-worm. 

Want  of  space  induces  the  writer  to  defer,  to  a  future  number,  the  re 
mainder  of  his  collection  of  these  cradle  and  nursery  chants.  They  con- 
stitute in  his  view,  rude  as  they  are.  and  destitute  of  metrical  attractions, 
a  chapter  in  the  history  of  the  human  heart,  in  the  savage  pJiasis,  which 
deserves  to  be  carefully  recorded.  It  has  fallen  to  his  lot,  to  observe  more 
perhaps,  in  this  department  of  Indian  life,  than  ordinary,  and  he  would  not 
acquit  himself  of  his  duty  to  the  race,  were  he  to  omit  these  small  links 
out  of  their  domestic  and  social  chain.  The  tie  which  binds  the  mother 
to  the  child,  in  Indian  life,  is  a  very  strong  one,  and  it  is  conceived  to 
admit  of  illustration  in  this  manner.     It  is  not  alone  in  the  war-path  and 


398 


CRADLE   SONOS   OF   THE   FOREST. 


the  council,  that  the  Red  Man  is  to  be  studied.  To  appreciate  his  whole 
charactor,  in  its  true  light,  he  must  be  followed  into  his  lodge,  and  viewed 
in  his  seasons  of  social  leisure  and  retirement.  If  there  be  any  thing 
warm  and  abiding  in  the  heart  or  memory  of  the  man,  when  thus  at  ease, 
surrounded  by  his  family,  it  must  come  out  here  ;  and  hence,  indeed,  the 
true  value  of  his  lodge  Jore,  of  every  kind. 

It  is  out  of  the  things  mental  as  well  as  physiological,  that  pertain  to 
maternity,  that  philosophy  must,  in  the  end,  construct  the  true  ethnological 
chain,  that  binds  the  human  race,  in  one  comprehensive  system  of  unity. 


LANGUAGES   OP   THE   PACIFIC    ISLANDS. 


The  Polynesian  languages,  like  those  of  the  Algonquin  group  of  North 
America,  have  inclusive  and  exclusive  pronouns  to  express  the  words 
we,  ours,  and  us.  They  have  aiso  causative  verbs  such  as,  to  make  afraid, 
to  make  happy,  &c.,  but  while  there  appears  this  analogy  in  grammatical 
principles,  there  are  some  strong  points  of  disagreement,  and  there  appears 
*o  be  no  analogy  whatever  in  the  sounds  of  the  language.  There  are 
eight  well  characterized  dialects  in  the  Polynesian  family.  They  are  the 
Tuhitian,  the  Owyhee,  [Hawaiian]  Marquesan,  or  Washingtonian,  Aus- 
tral island,  Hervey  island,  Samoan,  Tongatabu,  and  New  Zealand.  In 
seven  of  these,  the  name  for  God  is  Atua,  in  the  eighth,  or  Tongua  dialect, 
it  is  Otna.  Great  resemblances  exist  in  all  the  vocabularies.  Much  of 
the  actual  difference  arises  from  exchanges  of  the  consonants  r  and  1, 
h  and  s,  and  a  few  others.  They  possess  the  dual  number.  The  scheme 
of  the  pronouns  is  very  complete,  and  provides  for  nearly  all  the  recondite 
distinctions  of  person.  Where  the  vocabulary  fails  in  words  to  designate 
objects  which  were  unknown  to  them  before  their  acquaintance  with 
Europeans,  the  missionaries  have  found  it  to  fall  in  better  with  the  genius 
of  the  language,  to  introduce  new  words  from  the  Greek,  with  some  modi- 
fications. Thus  they  have  introduced  hipo  for  horse,  arcnio  for  lamb, 
areto  for  bread,  and  baplizo  for  baptism. 

To  coniinue  faithful  during  a  course  of  prosperity,  says  Xenophon,  hath 
nothing  wonderful  in  it,  but  when  any  set  of  men  continue  steadily  attached 
to  friends  in  adversity,  they  ought,  on  that  account,  to  be  eternally  re- 
membered. 

There  are  but  two  sources  only,  says  Polybius,  from  whence  any  real 
benefit  can  be  derived,  our  own  misfortunes  and  those  that  have  happened 
to  other  men. 

One  wise  counsel,  says  Eu^ipidM,  is  better  than  the  strength  of  many. 


late  his  whole 
e,  and  viewed 
be  any  thing 
1  thus  at  ease, 
;e,  indeed,  the 

hat  pertain  to 
e  ethnological 
item  of  unity. 


roup  of  North 
^ss  the  words 
)  make  afraid, 
1  grammatical 

there  appears 
!.     There  are 

They  are  the 
gtonian,  Aus- 
Zealand.  In 
ongua  dialect, 
3S.  Much  of 
lants  r  and  1, 
The  scheme 
I  the  recondite 
Is  to  designate 
aintance  with 
nth  the  genius 
th  some  modi- 
?)iio   for  lamb, 

enophon,  hath 
jadily  attached 
!  eternally  re- 

ence  any  real 
liave  happened 


i 


gth  of  many. 


Z.ARLT  BRETCHBS  OF   INDIAN   WOMEN  399 

•    '  From  "  New  England  Prospect.'" 

CHAPTER  XIX, 
o»  TueiR  wouew,  their  DisrotiTiom,  emplovmrnti,  uiaob  n  their  huibandi,  their 

ArrAREIX,   AND   MODEITT. 

To  satisfie  the  curious  eye  of  women-readers,  who  otherwise  might 
thinke  their  sex  forgotten,  or  not  worthy  a  record,  let  them  peruse  these 
few  lines,  wherein  they  may  see  their  owne  happinessc,  if  weighed  in  the 
womans  ballance  of  these  ruder  Indiana,  who  scorne  the  tuterings  of  their 
wives,  or  to  admit  them  as  their  equals,  though  their  qualities  and  indus- 
trious deservings  may  justly  claime  the  preheminence,  and  command  bet- 
ter usage  and  more  conjugall  esteeme,  their  persons  and  features  being 
every  way  correspondent,  their  qualifications  more  excellent,  being  more 
loving,  pittifull,  and  modest,  milde,  provident,  and  laborious  than  their 
lazie  husbands.  Their  employments  be  many:  First  their  building  of 
houses,  whose  frames  are  formed  like  our  garden-arbours,  something 
more  round,  very  strong  and  handsome,  covered  with  close-wrought  raata 
of  their  owne  weaving,  which  deny  entrance  to  any  drop  of  raine,  though 
it  come  both  fierce  and  long,  neither  can  the  piercing  North  winde,  finde 
a  crannie,  through  which  he  can  conveigh  his  cooling  breath,  tltey  be 
warmer  than  our  English  houses ;  at  the  top  is  a  square  hole  for  the 
■moakes  evacuation,  which  in  rainy  weather  is  covered  with  a  pluver  * 
these  bee  such  smoakie  dwellings,  that  when  there  is  good  fires,  they  are 
not  able  to  stand  upright,  but  lie  all  alon^  under  the  smoake,  never  using 
any  stooles  or  chaires,  it  being  as  rare  to  see  an  Indian  sit  on  a  stoole  at 
home,  as  it  is  strange  to  see  an  English  man  sit  on  his  heels  abroad. 
Their  houses  are  smaller  in  the  Summer,  when  their  families  be  dispersed, 
by  reason  of  heate  and  occasions.  In  Winter  they  make  some  fiftie  or 
thereescore  foote  long,  fortie  or  fiftie  men  being  inmates  under  one  roofe ; 
and  as  is  their  husbands  occasion  these  poore  tectonists  are  often  troubled 
like  snailes,  to  carrie  their  houses  on  their  backs  sometimes  to  fishing- 
places,  other  times  to  hunting  places,  after  that  to  a  planting-place,  where 
,t  abides  the  longest:  an  other  work  is  their  planting  of  come,  wherein 
they  cxceede  our  English  husband-men,  keeping  it  so  cleare  with  their 
Clamme  shell-hooes,  as  if  it  were  a  garden  rather  than  a  corne-field,  not 
sufTering  a  choaking  weede  to  advance  his  audacious  head  above  their  in- 
-fant  come,  or  an  undermining  worme  to  spoile  his  spumes.  Their  come 
being  ripe,  they  gather  it,  and  drying  it  hard  in  the  Sunne,  conveigh  it  to 
their  barnes,  which  be  great  holes  digged  in  the  ground  in  forme  of  a 
brasse  pof,  seeled  with  rinds  of  trees,  wherein  they  put  their  come,  cover- 
ing it  from  the  inquisitive  search  of  their  gurmandizing  husbands,  who 
woulJ  eate  up  both  their  allowed  portion,  and  reserved  seede,  if  they 
knew  where  to  finde  it.  But  our  hogges  having  found  a  way  to  un- 
hindge  thoir  barne  doores,  ana  robbe  their  garners,  they  are  glad  to  im 


400 


BABLY  ■KETCHES  OF   INDIAN  WOMEN. 


ploro  their  huibandt  heipe  to  roule  the  bodies  of  trees  over  their  holes,  to 
prevent  those  pioners,  whose  theeverio  they  us  much  hate  as  their  flesh. 
An  other  of  their  employments  is  their  Summer  processions  to  get  Lob- 
sters for  their  husbands,  wherewith  they  baite  their  hookes  when  they  goe 
a  fishing  for  Basse  or  Codfish,  This  is  an  every  dayes  walke,  be  the 
weather  cold  or  hot,  the  waters  rough  or  calme,  they  must  dive  sometimes 
over  head  and  eares  for  a  Lobster,  which  often  shakes  them  by  their  hands 
with  a  churlish  nippe,  and  bids  them  adiew.  The  tide  being  spent,  they 
trudge  home  two  or  three  miles,  with  a  hundred  weight  of  Lobsters  at 
their  backs,  and  if  none,  a  hundred  scoules  meete  them  at  home,  and  a 
hungry  belly  for  two  days  afler.  Their  husbands  having  caught  any  fish, 
they  bring  it  in  their  boates  as  farre  as  they  can  by  water,  and  there  leavo 
it;  as  it  was  their  care  to  catch  it,  so  it  must  be  their  wives  paines  to  fetch 
It  home,  or  fast:  which  done,  they  must  drcsse  it  and  cooke  it,  dish  it,  and 
present  it,  see  it  eaten  over  their  shoulders  ;  and  their  loggerships  having 
filled  their  paunches,  their  sweete  lullabies  scramble  for  their  scrappes. 
In  the  Summer  these  Indian  women  when  Lobsters  be  in  their  plenty 
and  prime,  they  drie  them  to  keepe  for  Winter,  erecting  scaflblds  in  thf 
hot  sun-shine,  making  flres  likewise  underneath  them,  by  whose  smoakf 
the  flies  are  expelled,  till  the  substance  remains  hard  and  drie.  In  thif 
manner  they  drie  Basse  and  other  fishes  without  salt,  cutting  them  verj 
thinne  to  dry  suddainely,  before  the  flies  spoile  them,  or  the  raine  moisi 
them,  having  a  speciall  care  to  hang  them  in  their  smoakie  houses,  in  th( 
night  and  dankish  weather. 

In  Summer  they  gather  flaggea,  of  which  they  make  Matts  for  houses 
and  Hempe  and  rushes,  with  dying  stufTe  of  which  they  make  curious 
baskets  with  intermixed  colours  and  portracturea  of  antique  Imagerie 
these  baskets  be  of  all  sizes  from  a  quart  tj  a  quarter,  in  wnich  they  carry 
their  luggage.  In  winter  time  they  are  their  husbunds  Caterers,  trudging 
to  the  Clamm  bankes  for  their  belly  timber,  and  their  Porters  to  lugge 
home  their  Venison  which  their  lazinesse  exposes  to  the  Woolves  till  they 
impose  it  upon  their  wives  shoulders.  They  likewise;  sew  their  husbands 
ahooes,  and  weave  coates  of  Turkic  feathers,  besides  all  their  ordinary 
household  drudgerie  which  daily  lies  upon  them.  *  * 

•  •  •  •  •  [Of  the  treatment  of 

babes  the  writer  says] :  The  young  Infant  being  greased  and  sooted,  wrapt 
in  a  beaver  skin,  bound  to  his  good  behaviour  with  his  feeteupon  a  board 
two  foote  long  and  one  foote  broade,  his  face  exposed  to  all  nipping 
weather ;  this  little  Pappouse  travells  about  with  his  bare  footed  mother 
to  paddle  in  the  ice  Clammbanks  after  three  or  foure  dayes  of  age  have 
sealed  his  passeboard  and  his  mothers  recoverie.  For  their  carriage  it  is 
Tcry  civill,  smiles  being  the  greatest  grace  of  their  mirth ;  their  musick 
is  lullabies  to  quiet  their  children,  who  generally  are  as  quiet  as  if  they 
had  neither  spleene  or  lungs.    To  hear  one  of  these  Indians  unseen*  • 


EARLY   SKETCHES   OP    INDIAN    WOMEN. 


401 


good  eare  mi^ht  enaily  miatake  their  untaught  voyce  for  the  warblini;  ^f 

a  well  tuned  instrument     Such  commnnd  havo  they  of  their  voicoa. 
•  •  •  •  •  t 

Commcndiiblu  is  their  mildecnrring^eand  obedience  to  their  husbands,  not- 
withstnndit)<if  all  this  tiieir  customiirio  churlishnesso  and  salvage  inhu* 
manitir,  not  >ocming  to  delight  in  frownrs  or  oflcring  to  word  it  with  their 
lords,  not  presuming  to  procluime  their  female  superiority  to  the  usurping 
of  the  least  title  of  their  husbands  charter,  but  rest  themselves  content  un- 
der their  helplesse  condition,  counting  it  the  womans  portion  :  since  the 
English  arrivull  comparison  hath  made  them  miserable,  for  seeing  the 
Kind  usage  of  the  English  to  their  wives,  they  doe  us  much  condemns 
their  husbands  for  unkindnessc,  and  comn)cnd  the  English  for  their  love. 
Aa  their  husbands  commending  themselves  for  their  wit  in  keeping  their 
wives  industrious,  doe  condemne  the  English  for  their  folly  in  spoyling 
good  working  creatures.  These  women  resort  often  to  the  English 
houses,  where  pares  cum  paribus  fongregatm  •,  in  Sex  I  meane,  they  do 
aomewhat  ease  their  miserie  by  complaining  and  scldome  part  without  a 
releefe:  If  her  husband  come  to  scekc  for  his  Squaw  anA.  beginne  to  blus- 
ter, the  English  woman  betakes  her  to  her  armes  which  are  the  war- 
like Ladle,  and  the  scalding  liquors,  threatening  blistering  to  the  naked 
runninvny,  who  is  soon  expelled  by  such  liquid  comminationa.  In  a  word 
to  conclude  this  womans  historic,  their  love  to  the  English  hath  deserved 
no  snmll  esteemc,  ever  presenting  them  some  thing  that  is  either  rare  or 
desired,  as  Strawberries,  Hurllebcrries,  Rasberries,  Gooseberries,  Cher- 
ries, Pluinmes,  Fish,  and  other  such  gif^s  as  their  poore  treasury  yeelda 
them.  But  now  it  may  be,  that  this  relation  of  the  churlish  and  inhu- 
mane behaviour  of  these  ruder  Indians  towards  their  patient  wives,  may 
confirme  some  in  the  beliefe  of  an  aspersion,  which  I  have  often  heard 
men  cast  upon  the  English  there,  as  if  they  should  learne  of  the  Indians 
to  use  their  wives  in  the  like  manner,  and  to  bring  them  to  the  same  sub- 
jection, as  to  sit  on  the  lower  hand,  and  to  carrie  water  and  the  like 
drudgorie:  but  if  my  own  experience  may  out  ballance  an  ill-grounded 
scandalous  rumour,  I  doe  assure  you,  upon  my  credit  and  reputation,  that 
there  is  no  such  matter,  but  the  women  findo  there  as  much  love,  respect, 
and  e.ise,  as  h(!re  in  old  Eni^hfid.  I  will  not  deny,  but  that  some  poore 
peo|)Ie  may  carrie  their  owne  water,  and  doe  not  the  poorer  sort  in  Eng- 
land doe  the  same;  witnesse  your  Lo»/^/ott  Tankard-bearers,  and  your 
countrio-cottagers  ?  But  this  may  well  be  knowne  to  be  nothinjj,  but  the 
Tancorous  venomc  of  some  that  bcare  no  good  will  to  the  plantation.  For 
what  neede  they  carrie  water,  seei;i:,'  every  one  hath  a  Spring  at  his 
doorc,  or  the  Sea  by  his  house .'  Thus  much  for  the  satisfaction  of 
'Women,  touching  this  entrenchment  upon  their  prerogative,  as  also  con 
cerning  the  relation  of  these  Indians  Squawes. 

*  Equals  assembled  with  equals. 
26 


PAWNEE  BARBARITY. 


That  the  tribea  west  of  the  Missouri,  and  beyond  the  pale  of  the 
ordinary  influence  of  civilization,  should  retain  some  shocking  customs, 
which,  if  ever  prevalent  among  the  more  favoured  tribes  east  of  the  Mis- 
sissippi and  the  AUeghenies,  have  long  disappeared,  may  be  readily  con- 
ceived. Wild,  erratic  bands,  who  rove  over  immense  plains  on  horseback, 
with  bow  and  lance,  who  plunge  their  knives  and  arrows  daily  into  the 
carcasses  of  the  buflfalo,  the  elk  and  the  deer,  and  who  are  accustomed  to 
sights  of  blood  and  carnage,  cannot  escape  the  mental  influence  of  these 
sanguinary  habits,  and  must  be,  more  or  less,  blunted  in  their  conceptions 
and  feelings.  Where  brute  life  is  so  recklessly  taken,  there  cannot  be  the 
same  nice  feeling  and  sense  of  justice,  which  some  of  the  more  favoured 
tribes  possess,  with  respect  to  taking  away  human  life.  Yet,  it  could 
hardly  have  been  anticipated,  that  such  deeds  as  we  are  now  called  upon 
to  notice,  would  have  their  place  even  in  the  outskirts  of  the  farther  "Far 
West,"  and  among  a  people  so  sunk  and  degraded  in  ihsit  moral  propen- 
sities, as  the  Pawnees.     But  the  facts  are  well  attested. 

In  the  fierce  predatory  war  carried  on  between  the  Pawnees  and  Sioux, 
acts  of  blood  and  retaliation,  exercised  on  their  prisoners,  are  of  frequent 
occurrence.  In  the  month  of  Febuary,  1838,  the  Pawnees  captured  a 
Sioux  girl  only  fourteen  years  of  age.  They  carried  her  to  their  camp 
on  the  west  of  the  Missouri,  and  deliberated  what  should  be  done  with 
her.  It  is  not  customary  to  put  female  captives  to  death,  but  to  make 
slaves  of  them.  She,  however,  was  doomed  to  a  harder  fate,  but  it  waf 
carefully  concealed  from  her,  for  the  space  of  some  sixty  or  seventy  dayf 
During  all  this  time  she  was  treated  well,  and  had  comfortable  lodging  i 
and  food,  the  same  as  the  rest  enjoyed.  On  the  22nd  of  April,  the  chif  fs 
held  a  general  council,  and  when  it  broke  up,  it  was  announced  that  1  er 
doom  was  fixed,  but  this  was  still  carefully  concealed  from  her.  This 
doom  was  an  extraordinary  one,  and  so  far  as  the  object  can  be  dedu  .ed, 
from  the  circumstances  and  ceremonies,  the  national  hatred  to  their  ene.ni«a 
was  indulged,  by  making  the  innocent  non-combatant,  a  sacrifice  to  the 
spirit  of  corn,  or  perhaps,  of  vegetable  fecundity. 

When  the  deliberations  of  the  council  were  terminated,  on  that  aay, 
she  was  brought  out,  attended  by  the  whole  council,  and  accompanied  on 
a  visit  from  lodge  to  lodge,  until  she  had  gone  round  the  whole  circle. 
When  this  round  was  finished,  they  placed  in  her  hands  a  small  billet  of 
wood  and  some  paints.  The  warriors  ond  chiefs  then  seated  themselves 
in  a  circle.  To  the  first  person  of  distinction  she  then  handed  this  billet 
of  wood  and  paint;  he  contributed  to  this  ofiering,  or  sort  of  sacrificial 

402 


PAWNEE   BARBARITY. 


403 


cbarity  some  wood  and  paint,  then  handed  it  to  the  next,  who  did  likewiae, 
and  he  passed  it  to  the  next,  until  it  had  gone  the  entire  rounds,  and  each 
one  had  contributed  some  wood  and  some  paint.  She  was  then  conducted 
to  the  place  of  execution.  For  this  purpose  they  had  chosen  an  open 
grassy  glade,  near  a  cornfield,  where  there  were  a  few  trees.  The  spot 
selected  was  between  two  of  these  trees,  standing  about  five  feet  apart,  m 
Jie  centre  of  which  a  small  fire  was  kindled,  with  the  wood  thus  ceremo- 
niously contributed.  Three  bars  had  been  tied  across,  horn  tree  to  tree, 
above  this  fire,  at  such  a  graded  height,  that  the  points  of  the  blaze, 
when  at  its  maximum,  might  just  reach  to  her  feet.  Upon  this  scafllbld 
she  was  compelled  to  mount,  when  a  warrior  at  each  side  of  her  held  fire 
under  her  arm  pits.  When  this  had  been  continued  as  long  as  they  sup- 
posed she  could  endure  the  torture,  without  extinguishing  life,  at  a  given 
signal,  a  band  of  armed  bow-men  let  fly  their  darts,  and  her  body,  at 
almost  the  same  instant,  was  pierced  with  a  thousand  arrows.  These 
were  immediately  withdrawn,  and  her  flesh  then  cut  with  knives,  from 
her  thighs,  arms  and  body,  in  pieces  not  longer  than  half  a  dollar,  and  put 
into  little  baskets.     All  this  was  done  before  life  was  quite  extinct. 

The  field  of  newly  planted  corn  reached  near  to  this  spot.  This  corn 
had  been  dropped  in  the  hill,  but  not  covered  with  earth.  The  principal 
chief  then  took  of  the  flesh,  and  going  to  a  hill  of  corn,  squeezed  a  drop 
of  blood  upon  the  grains.  This  was  done  by  each  one,  until  all  the 
grains  put  into  the  ground,  had  received  this  extraordinary  kind  of  sprink 
ling. 

This  horrible  cruelty  took  place  in  the  vicinity  of  Council  Blufis. 
Oflfers  to  redeem  the  life  of  the  prisoner  had  been  made  by  the  traders,  in 
a  full  council  of  eighty  chiefs  and  warriors,  but  they  were  rejected.  The 
original  narrator  was  an  eye  witness.  He  concludes  his  description  by 
adding,  that  his  wife's  brother,  a  Pawnee,  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the 
Sioux,  in  the  month  of  June  following,  and  treated  in  the  same  manner. 
Truly,  it  may  be  said  that  the  precincts  of  the  wild  roving  Red  man,  are 
"full  of  the  abodes  of  cruelty." 


Hunting  and  war  are  arts  which  require  to  be  taught.  The  Iitdian 
youth,  if  they  were  not  furnished  with  bows  and  arrows,  would  never 
learn  to  kill.  The  same  time  spent  to  teach  them  war  and  huntmg,  if 
devoted  to  teach  them  letters,  would  make  them  readers  and  writers.  Ed- 
ucation is  all  of  a  piece. 

Example  is  more  persuasive  than  precept  in  teaching  an  Indian.  Tell 
him  that  he  should  never  touch  alcohol,  and  he  may  not  see  clearly  why ; 
but  show  him,  by  your  invariable  practice,  that  you  never  do,  and  he  may 
be  led  to  confide  in  your  admonitions, 


4U4 


"the  loon  upon  the  lake." 


it 


THE  LOON  UPON  THE  LAKE." 


BY  E.  F.  HOFFMAN. 


[From  the  Rhippewa.*J 


I  LOOKED  across  the  water, 

I  bent  o'er  it  and  listened, 
I  thought  it  was  my  lover. 
My  true  lover's  paddle  glistened. 
Joyous  thus  his  light  canoe  would  the  silver  ripples  wake- 
But  no  ! — it  is  the  Loon  alone — the  loon  upon  the  lake. 
Ah  me  !  it  is  the  loon  alone — the  loon  upon  the  lake. 

I  see  the  fallen  maple 

Where  he  stood,  his  red  scarf  waving, 
Though  waters  nearly  bury 
Boughs  they  then  were  newly  laving. 
I  hear  his  last  farewell,  as  it  echoed  from  the  brake.— 
But  no,  it  is  the  loon  alone — the  loon  upon  the  lake, 
Ah  me !  it  is  the  loon  alone — the  loon  upon  the  lake. 

*  Nenemoshain  nindenamdum 
Meengoweugish  abowaugoda 
iUiewahwas  inongoduga,&c.,&c 


TO   A  BmD,  SEEN   UNDER   MY   WINDOW  IN  THE   OAEDEN. 

By  the  late  Mrs.  H.  R.  Schoolcraft,  wlio  was  a  grand  daughter  of  the  war  chief 

Wabojueq. 

Sweet  little  bird,  thy  notes  prolong, 

And  ease  my  lonely  pensive  hours ; 
I  love  to  list  thy  cheerful  song, 

And  hear  thee  cliirp  beneath  the  flowers. 

The  time  allowed  for  pleasures  sweet. 

To  thee  is  short  as  it  is  bright, 
Then  sing  I   rejoice!   before  it  fleet, 

And  cheer  me  ere  you  take  ycur  flight. 


I> 


ODJiBVVA   SONG. 


wake.- 
ke. 


g- 


■  The.  following  song,  taken  from  the  oral  traclitions  of  tho  north,  is  con 
nected  with  a  histoiiciil  iiiciJeiit,  of  note,  in  iht;  Indian  wars  of  Canada. 
[n  IT.OO,  great  exertions  were  made  liy  the  Fremih  Indian  department, 
under  Gen.  Montcalm,  to  biing  a  body  of  Indians  into  tiie  valley  of  tho 
lower  St.  Lawrence,  and  invitations,  for  this  purpose  readied  the  utmost 
shores  of  Lake  Superior.  In  one  of  the  canoes  from  that  quarter,  which 
was  left  on  their  way  down,  at  the  lake  of  Two  Mountains,  near  tne 
mouth  of  the  Utawas,  while  the  warriors  proceeded  farther,  was  a  Chip- 
pewa girl  called  Paig-wain-e-osh-e,  or  the  White  Eagle,  driven  by  the 
wind.  While  the  party  awaited  there,  the  result  of  events  at  duebec,  she 
formed  an  attachment  for  a  young  Algonquin  belonging  to  the  French 
mission  of  the  Two  Mountains.  This  attachment  was  mutual,  and  gave 
origin  to  the  song,  of  which  the  original  words,  with  a  literal  prose  trans- 
lation, arc  subjoined: 


EN. 

he  war  chief 


la  indenaindum 
la  indenaindum 
Ma  kow  we  yah 
Nin  denaindum  we. 

Ah  me!  when  I  think  of  him — when  I  think  of  him — my  sweetheart, 
my  Algonquin. 

II. 

Pah  bo  je  aun 
Ne  be  nau  be  koning 
Wabi  megwissun 
Nene  mooshain  we 

Odishquagumee.  • 

As  I  embarked  to  return,  he  put  the  white  wampum  around  my  neck 
—a  pledg3  of  truth,  my  sweetheart,  my  Algonquin. 

III. 

Keguh  wejewin 
Ain  dah  nuk  ke  yun 
Ningee  egobun 
Nene  mooshain  we 

Odishquagumee. 
I  shall  go  with  you,  he  said,  to  your  native  country — 1  shall  go  with 
you,  my  sweetheart — my  Algonquin. 

405 


4CG 


ODJIBWA   SONO. 


iirt; 


IV. 

Nial  niti  dc  nnh  d'j$h 
Wassalnviul  gushuh 
Aindahnuk  ke  y'iiun 
Ke  yau  ninemooshai  wee 

Odishqiiagumee. 
Alas!  I  replied — my  native  country  is  far,  far  away — my  swecthci 
my  Algonquin. 

V. 

Kai  aubik  oween 
Ain  aube  aunin 
Ke  we  naubee 
Ne  ne  mooshai  we 

Odishquagumee. 

When  I  looked  back  again — where  we  parted,  he  was  still  lookmg 
after  me,  my  sweetheart  ;  my  Algonquin. 

VI. 

Apee  nay  we  ne  bow 
Unishe  bun 
Aungwash  agushing 
Ne  ne  mooshai  we 

Odishquagumee. 
He  was  still  standmg  on  a  fallen  tree — that  had  fallen  into  the  water 
my  sweetheart ;  my  Algonquin. 

VII. 

Nia  I  indenaindum 
Nia  !    in  denaindum 
Ma  kow  we  yuh 
Nin  de  nain  dum  we 
•  Odishquagumee. 

Alas  !  when  I  think  of  him — when  I  think  of  him — It  is  when  I 
think  of  him  ;  my  Algonquin. 


Eloquence  on  the  part  of  the  speakers,  is  not  so  much  the  result  of 
superior  force  of  thought,  as  of  the  strong  and  clear  positions  of  right,  in 
which  they  have  been  placed  by  circumstances.  It  is  the  force  of  truth, 
by  which  we  are  charmed. 

An  Indian  war  song,  sung  in  public,  by  the  assembled  warriors  on  the 
ontbreak  of  hostilities,  is  a  declaration  of  war. 


407 


NIAGARA,  AN  ALLEGORY. 


swcctheurt ; 


iU  looking 


the  water 


is  when  I 


result  of 

i  light,  in 

of  truth, 

ors  on  the 


An  old  grey  man  on  ti  mountain  lived, 

He  had  diiuirhterB  (bur  find  one, 
And  a  tall  bright  lodire  of  the  beUila  bark 

That  jlittered  in  liie  sun. 

He  lived  on  the  very  hiorhest  top, 

For  he  wiis  a  hunter  free, 
Where  he  could  spy  on  the  clearest  day, 

Gleams  of  the  distant  sea. 

Come  out — come  out  I  cried  {he  youngest  one, 

Let  us  otl'  to  look  at  the  sea, 
And  out  they  ran  in  their  payest  robes, 

And  sliipped  and  ran  with  glee. 

Come  Su,*  come  Mi,t  come  Hu,J  come  Sa.§ 

Cried  laughing  lidle  Er.|| 
Let  us  go  to  vondtT  broad  blue  deep, 

Where  the  breakers  foam  and  roar. 

And  on  they  scampered  by  valley  and  wood, 

By  earth  and  air  and  pky. 
Till  they  came  to  a  steep  where  the  bare  rocks  stood. 

In  a  precipice  mountain  high. 

Inyaliy  cried  Er,  here's  a  dreadful  leap, 

But  we  lire  none  so  far, 
That  if  we  flinch  and  return  in  fear, 

Nos,**  he  will  cry  ha  !  ha  I 

Now  each  was  clad  in  a  vesture  light, 

That  floated  far  behind, 
With  sjiiidals  of  frozi'n  water  drops. 

And  wings  of  painted  wind. 

And  down  they  i<hin<rod  with  a  merry  skip. 

Like  binls  that  skim  the  jilain ; 
And  hey!  they  cried  let  ns  up  and  try 

And  down  tlie  steep  again. 

« 

And  up  and  down  the  daughters  skipped. 

Like  ifirls  on  a  holiiliiy. 
And  langiied  oinriirlit,  at  the  sport  and  foam_ 

They  called  Niagara. 

If  ye  would  see  a  siL'ht  so  rare. 

Where  nature's  in  her  L'lee, 
Go.  view  the  s|iot  in  the  wide  wild  west, 

The  land  of  the  hrav(!  and  free. 

But  mark — their  slmiies  are  only  seen 

In  faney'.-f  deepest  play. 
But  she  plaiidy  s^hews  their  wings  and  fee 

In  the  dancuig  sunny  spray. 


•  Superior.  t  Miclii<fiin.  t  Huron. 

H   All  exclamation  of  wonder  and  surprize. — Odj.  Ian. 


§  St.  Claro.  li  Eria 

»»  My  father, — ib 


A   rSALM. 


TO    TUB    AUTHOR    C  f    LIFE,    IN    TIIK    ODJinWA-ALOONQUIN    TONGUE. 

DY  THE  LATE  MRS.  HENRY  R.  SCHOOLCRAFT. 

1.  Gaitshe  minno  pimairiizzeyiin,  Gezha  MoneJo,  gczhigong  aiboyun 

2.  Keen,  rnauinauwaikuinig  waozhemigoyiin. 

3.  Keen,  kah  ozhieuyong,  keen  gaugcgaikumig,  kai  nuliwaunem«»» 
yong,  aikoobemandizzeyong. 

4.  Keen,  kainuhwaubainieyong,  geezhig  tibbikuk  tibishko. 

5.  Keen,  Keozheahn-geezhik-geezis,  dibbik-geezis,  aiiniingng  gia. 

6.  Keen,  kegeozhetoan  tshe  kimmewung,  gia  tshe  anniniikeeaug,  tshe 
sai  sai  yung,  tshe  sogepoog  gia. 

7.  Keen  kau  ozhciyong  tshe  r.nnewegauboweyaung,  kakinnuk  kau 
ozheiuljig  akeeng. 

8.  Ki'f,  gcmishemin  odjechaugwug,  wekaukaine  .)osigoog.  Kee 
gemishemiii  kebauzhigo  kcgwiss  Jesus  Chiist,  tshe  oonjenebood  neeno- 
wind. 

9.  Mozhug  issiih  neiiHidjoeinaindiiniin,  kngiiit  mozhiig  nemudjee-eki- 
(loinin  ;  nahwiulj  tit'ininwaindiiiniii  tslie  nindjci'-doduniiiiiiig. 

10.  Kagaitego  me  kaisooiulje  izhauyaungcbun  inudjee  Moneto. 

11.  Showainernisliiniiiin,  Giezlia  Monedo. 

12.  Showainfmishinaum,  Jesus  Christ. 

13.  Maishkoodjetoan  ne  mudjee-odai-enaunin. 

14.  Meezhishenaun  edush  oushke  odaiyun. 

15.  Apaidush  nah  saugcigsayuii,  gia  dusli  todumaung  kau  izhe  gugeek- 
wayun. 

16.  Me  ozhissinauin  odaiyun  tshe  minwainduniaung,  tshe  aiinahme 
autogoyun. 

17.  Showainiin  npendunahwaitmanaunenaunic:  nnishenaubaisr. 

18.  Showainirn  kukinnuh  menik  pemaiidizzejig  akueng. 

19.  Showaineinishfnaum  kaidokoo  peinaudizzeyong,  appe  dush  nee- 
boy  on  g. 

20.  Showaineniisiicnaum  neen  jeechaugonaunig  tshe  izhowaud  keen. 

21.  Kaugpgaikumig  edush  tshe  meuawaunegooz  eyong  ozaum  ne 
mudje-pemaudizzewin  auno  unnahmeyauyongin. 

22.  Kauwcen  edush  kewec  peniaudizzewin,  kishpin  aitah  appainemo 
yong  Keguiss  Jesus  Christ. 

23.  Aioetaineniud  kegwiss  showainemishenaum.    Kunnah  gai  kunnab 

408 


A  PSALM. 


403 


kinnuk  kau 


TRANSLATION. 

I.  Great  good  author  of  Life,  Gezha  Monedo,  abiding  in  the  heavens 
2    Thou  hast  made  all  things. 

3.  Thou  art  the  giver, — Thou,  the  everlnsting  preserver  of  life. 

4.  Thou  hast  guarded  ine,  by  day  and  by  night. 

5.  Thou  hast  made  liie  sun  and  moon,  and  the  stars. 

6.  Thou  rnakest  the  rain,  the  thunder,  tiie  hail,  and  the  snows. 

7.  Thou  didst  make  man  to  stand  upright,  and  has  placed  him  over  all 
that  is  on  the  earth. 

8.  Thou  hast  given  us  souls,  that  will  never  die.     Thou  liast  sent  thy 
son  Jesus  Christ  to  die  for  us. 

9.  Continually  are  our  thoughts  evil,  and  truly,  our  words  are  evil  con- 
tinually. 

10.  Verily,  we  deserve  punishment  with  the  Spirit  of  Evil. 
]  1.  Show  pity  on  us,  Gdzha  Monedo. 

12.  Show  pity  on  us,  Jesus  Christ. 

13.  Reform  our  wicked  hearts. 

14.  Give  us  new  hearts. 

15.  May  we  love  thee  with  all  our  hearts,  and  by  our  acts  obey  thy 
precepts,  (or  sayings.) 

16.  Give  us  hearts  to  delight  in  prayer. 

17.  Show  mercy  to  all  our  kindred,  unishenaubaig,  or  common  people, 
(means  exclusively  the  Red  Men.) 

IS.  Show  mercy  to  all  who  live  on  the  earth. 

19.  Pity  us,  and  befriend  us,  living  and  dying. 

20.  And  receive  our  souls  to  thyself 

21.  Ever  to  dwell  in  thine  abiding  place  of  happiness. 

22.  Not  in  our  own  frail  strength  of  life,  do  we  ask  this ;  but  alone  in 
the  name  of  Jesus  Christ. 

23.  Grant  us  thy  mercy,  in  the  name  of  thy  Son.    So  be  it  ever. 
Those  who  take  an  interest  in  the  structure  of  the  Indian  languages, 

may  regard  the  above,  as  an  wiprorised  specimen  of  the  capacity  of  this 
particular  dialect  for  the  expression  of  scripture  truth.  The  writer,  who 
from  early  years  was  a  memlier  of  the  church,  had  made  a  translation  of 
the  Lords  prayer,  and,  occasionally,  as  delicate  and  declining  health  per- 
mittef",,  some  other  S(;lect  pieces  from  the  sacred  writings,  and  hymns,  of 
which,  one  or  two  selections  may,  perhaps,  hereafter  be  made. 


m 


appamemo 


The  distinction  betwem  tlie  active  and  passive  voice,  in  the  Odjibwa 
langunge,  is  formed  by  the  inflection  ego. 

Ne  sageau,  I  love. 

Ne  sageau-ej'o,  I  am  loved. 


TRADITIONARY  WAR  SONGS 


OF  THE 


ODJIBWA  ALGONQUINS. 


Whoever  has  heard  an  Indian  war  song,  and  witnessed  an  Indian  war 
dance,  must  be  satisfied  that  the  occasion  wakes  up  all  the  fire  and  energy 
of  the  Indian's  soul.  His  flashing  eye — his  muscular  energy,  as  he 
begins  the  dance — his  violent  gesticulation  as  he  raises  his  war-cry — the 
whole  frame  and  expression  of  the  man,  demonstrate  this.  And  long 
before  it  conies  to  his  turn  to  utter  his  stave,  or  portion  of  the  chant,  his 
mind  has  been  worked  up  to  the  most  intense  point  of  excitement :  his 
imagination  has  pictured  the  enemy — the  ambush  and  the  onset — the  vic- 
tory and  the  bleeding  victim,  writhing  under  his  prowess :  in  imagination 
he  has  already  stamped  him  under  foot,  and  torn  off  his  reeking  scalp: 
he  has  seen  the  eagles  hovering  in  the  air,  ready  to  pounce  on  the  dead 
carcass,  as  soon  as  the  combatants  quit  the  field. 

It  would  require  strong  and  graphic  language  to  give  descriptive  ut- 
terance,  in  the  shape  of  song,  to  all  he  has  fancied,  and  seen  and  feels  on 
the  subject.  He,  himself,  makes  no  Such  effort.  Physical  excitement 
has  absorbed  his  energies.  He  is  in  no  mood  for  calm  and  connected 
descriptions  of  battle  scenes.  He  has  no  stores  of  measured  rhymes  to 
fall  back  on.  All  he  can  do  is  to  utter  brief,  and  often  highly  symbolic 
expressions  of  courage — of  defiance — of  indomitable  rage.  His  feet 
stamp  the  ground,  as  if  he  wo'ild  shake  it  to  it.<!  centre.  The  inspiring 
drum  and  mystic  rattle  communicate  new  energy  to  every  step,  while 
they  serve,  by  the  observance  of  the  most  exact  time,  to  concentrate  his 
energy.  His  very  looks  depict  the  spirit  of  rage,  and  his  yells,  uttered 
quick,  sharp,  and  cut  ofiT  by  the  application  of  the  hand  to  the  mouth,  are 
startling  and  horrific. 

Under  such  circumstances,  a  few  short  and  broken  sentences  are 
enough  to  keep  alive  the  theme  in  his  mind  ;  and  he  is  not  probably  con- 
scious of  the  fact,  that,  to  an  unimpassioned  and  calm  listener,  with  note 
book  in  hand,  there  is  not  sufficient  said  to  give  coherence  to  the  song. 
And  that  such  a  song,  indeed,  under  the  best  auspices,  is  a  mere  wild 
rhapsody  of  martial  thought,  poured  out  from  time  to  time,  in  detached 
sentences,  which  are,  so  to  say,  cemented  into  lines  by  a  flexible  chorus 
and  known  tune.  The  song  and  the  musiv.  are  all  of  a  piece.  Vivid 
and  glowing,  and  poetic  pictures  will  float  in  such  a  train,  and  often  strike 

41G 


TRADITIONARY    WAR   SONGS. 


411 


the  imagination  by  their  graphic  truth  and  boldness ;  but  \he  poet  must 
look  elsewhere  for  finished  melody,  and  refined  and  elaborate  composition. 
The  Indian  is  to  be  viewed  here,  as  elsewhere,  as  being  in  the  highest 
state  of  his  physical,  not  of  his  vicnlal  phasis.  Such  glimmerings  may 
however  be  picked  out  of  these  warlike  rhapsodies,  as  denote  that  he  is  of 
a  noble  and  independent  tone  of  thinking.  We  shall  at  least  enable  the 
reader  to  judge.  The  following  specimens,  which  have  been  derived  from 
actors  in  the  depths  of  the  forest,  consist  of  independent  songs,  or  stanzas, 
each  of  which  is  sung  by  a  dilVerent  or  by  the  same  warrior,  while  the 
dance  is  in  progress.  The  words  have  been  taken  down  from  a  young 
Chippewa  warrior  of  lake  Superior,  of  the  name  of  Che  chegwy-ung. 
It  will  be  perceived  that  there  is  a  unity  in  the  theme,  while  each  warrior 
e.xercises  the  freest  scope  of  e.xpression.  This  unity  I  h;u'e  favoured  by 
throwing  out  such  stanzas  as  mar  it,  and  afterwards  arranging  them 
together. 

WAR  SONG. 
a.  In  beginning  this  song  the  warrior  has  turned  his  eyes  to  the  clouds. 


O  shfl  wan  ong 
Un  dos'  e  wug, 
Pe  na'  se  wiig, 
Ka  bairn  wai  wa  dung-ig. 


(From  the  place  of  the  south) 
(They  come,)  repeat. 
(The  birds,  i.  e.  the  warlike  birds.) 
(Hear  the  sound  of  their  passing  screams 
on  the  air.) 


b.  The  idea  of  ravetvous  birds  hovering  in  the  sky,  still  prevails— 

Tod  of  to  be  (I  wish  to  change  myself  to  be) 

Pe  nf  se.  (A  bird.) 

Ka  dow  we  a  we  yun*.  (His  s',*'ift  body — to  be  like  him.) 

e.  The  warrior  now  rises  above  all  thoughts  of  fear. 

Ne  wd  be  na,  (I  cast  it  away.) 

Ne  ow  a.  (My  body.) 

Ne  wa  be  na,  {Repeats.)    This  is  a  high  symbolical  boast  of  pe^ 

N6  ow  a.  sonal  bravery. 

d.  He  appeals  to  the  Great  Spirit  for  extraordinary  power. 


Na  bun  a  kum  ig, 
Tshe  b^  be  wish'  em  ug. 
In  do  main'  em  ik, 
Mon-  e  do, 
Sha  wa  nem  id. 


(On  the  front  part  of  the  earth,) 
(First  shines  [strikes]  the  light.) 
(Such  power  to  me,) 
(My  God,) 
(In  thy  mercy  give  !) 
By  the  boldness  of  this  figure  he  claims  the  omnipotent  poiver  of  the 
siin  to  see  and  discover  his  enemies. 


V\^' 

;  y . 

)!  1 

i?  ft  ■ 

■'■/■'■I 

412 


TRADITIONAnv    WAR   SONQS. 


e.  Wa  upbraids  such  >if  liis  propio  ns  hold  lack',  and  do  not  join  in  tha 
dance — that  is  to  say,  cti'ist  in  the  war. 

Wil  go  nain',  o  win  1  (Why  do  yo,  warriors,) 

A  bo  vin  ah,  (Stand  back  ?) 

\V;1  wos  is  sc,  wc  ytin.  (Vo  who  bi-ar  the  maik  of  the  Awasccs.) 

The  Awasco  is  u  kind  of  lisli,  which  is  the  lotcm  oi'  a  clun. 

/  He  dechires  his  full  purpose  to  enter  into  the  wur. 

No  ma  jo,  0  yeh  ' 
Ne  nid  jo,  e  yoh  ! 
Ne  nie  kun  ah,  e  yeh ! 
Gc  ziiig  neen  wu  tin, 


Hoh !  Nc  monedo  netaibnil- 
tinn  0  win. 


(I  go  to  the  spot — iho  war  path  I) 

( llrjH-als. ) 

(My  war  path  !) 

(My  sky  is  i'air  and  clear.)  The  com- 
mon phrase  to  denote  good  fortune. 

(Let  others  lin^-cr.  Onward  I  my 
God! — my  right!) 


In  presenting  these  specimens  of  the  original  words  of  some  of  our 
western  warriors,  we  are  permitted  to  give  the  aimexed  versions  of  them 
from  the  pen  of  one  of  our  most  gifted  writers. 

WAR-SONG—"  Pe-na'  se-wug." 

(From  the  Algonquin  of  Schoolurafi.) 

BY    C.    F.    HOFFMAN. 

I. 

Hear  not  ye  their  shrill-piping 

screams  on  the  air? 
Up !  Braves  for  the  conflict 

prepare  ye — prepare! 
Aroused  from  the  canebrake, 

far  south  by  your  drum, 
With  beaks  whet  from  carnage, 

the  Battle  Birds  come. 


u. 

Oh  God  of  my  Fathers, 

as  swiftly  as  they, 
I  a^k  but  to  swoop 

from  the  hills  on  my  prey: 
Give  this  frame  to  the  winds, 

on  the  Prairie  below, 
But  my  soul — like  thy  bolt — 

I  would  hurl  on  the  foe  I 


TBADITIONARY   WAR  BONOS. 


Ill 


t  not  join  in  the 


III. 
On  the  forihead  of  Earth 

strikes  tho  Sun  in  his  might, 
Oh  gift  ine  with  ^rlunccs 

us  searching  ns  light. 
In  the  front  of  the  onslaught, 

to  single  each  crest, 
Till  my  haichet  grows  red 

on  their  bravest  and  best. 


IV. 

Why  stand  ye  back  idly, 

ye  Sons  of  the  Lakes  t 
Who  boast  .of  the  scalp-locks, 

ye  tremble  to  take. 
Fear-dreamers  nuiy  linger, 

7)1)/  skies  are  all  bright — 
Charge — charge — on  the  VVar-Path, 

FOR  (jiuD  AND  THE  HlUIIT. 

Take  the  following  additional  example,  of  a  death  song.  These  stan- 
zas have  all  been  actually  sung  on  warlike  occasions,  and  repeated  in  my 
hearing.  They  have  been  gleaned  from  the  traditionary  song.s  of  the 
Chippewas  of  the  north,  whose  villages  extend  through  the  region  of  lake 
Superior,  and  to  the  utmost  source  of  the  Mississippi.  Those  bands  are 
the  hereditary  foes  of  their  western  neighbours,  the  Daciitnlis  or  Siou.x, 
who  arc  generally  called  by  them,  by  way  of  distinction,  Na  do  w&'  sees, 
that  is  to  say,  ouii  enemies.  The  allusions  in  the  songs  are  exclusively  to 
them.  In  writing  the  original,  i  omit  the  chorus,  as  it  is  not  susceptible 
of  translation,  and  would  increase  considerably  the  space  occupied. 


DEATH    SONG. 

1.  In  opening  this  song  the  warrior  is  to  be  contemplated  as  Ipng 
wounded  on  the  field  of  battle. 

A'  be  tub  ge'  ziiig,  (Under  the  centre  of  the  sky,) 

Ne  bii  baiin  wii  wa.  (I  utter  my  bairn  wii  wa. 

Baimwiiwii.  is  the  sound   of  passing  thunders,  which   will  convey  a 
just  idea  of  the  violence  of  this  figure. 

2.  His  thoughts  revert  to  tho  star  of  his  destiny. 

Ain  dah'  so  gezhig  (Every  day,  thou  star  I) 

Ke  ga  gun  o  wa  bom  in.  (I  gaze  at  you.) 

It  is  tho  morning  star  that  is  here  alluded  to. 


414 


TRAOITI0NAR7   WAR   BONOS. 


8.  He  lees  the  birds  of  carnngo  hovering  over  the  field. 

A'  be  tuh  geizh  ig  (Thu  hnlf  of  the  day) 

Ai  be  yiuin  (I  ubido — gazing) 

Pe  nii  se  wug  (Ye  warlike  birda.) 

4.  He  keeps  the  flight  of  these  birds  before  his  mind  and  hears  their 


thrill  cries, 

Pe  mask  wosh  e  wug 

Pe  nft'  se  wug 

A'  be  tuh  geezh  ig  oag. 


(They  fly  round  the  circuit  of  the  «ky.) 

(The  birds— circling) 

(Round  hnlf  the  circuit  of  the  sky.)  The 
meaning  is,  approaching  him  m  circle 
more  nearly,  as  life  becomes  fiiinter  in 
him. 


b.  This  figure  is  continued.     He  lies  bleeding. 

A'  zha  waush  e  wug  (They  cross  the  enemy^  line) 

Pe  nft  se  wug.  (The  birds.) 


6.  He  feels  that  he  is  called  to  another  world. 

A  pit  she  Mon  e  doag 
Ne  mud  wa  wft 
Wd  we  ne  goog. 


(The  high  gods) 
(My  praise) 
(They  sound.) 


7.  He  is  content  and  willing  to  go. 

K&  gait',  ne  min  wain'  dum 
Ne  bun  ai  kum  ig 
Tabe  h&  be  wish  e  naun. 


(Full  happy— I) 

(To  lie  on  the  battle-field) 

(Over  the  enemy's  line.) 


DEATH-SONG—"  A'  be  tuh  g6  zhig." 

(From  the  Algoiujuin  of  Sclioolcraft.) 

BY  C.   F.   HOFFMAN. 

I. 

Under  the  hollow  sky, 
Stretched  on  the  Prairie  lone, 

Centre  of  glory,  I 
Bleeding,  disdain  to  groan, 

But  like  a  battle  cry 
Peal  forth  my  thunder  moan, 
Baim-tod^d  I 


n. 


Star — Morning-Star,  whose  ray 
Still  with  the  dawn  I  see, 


TRADITIONARY   WAR   SONOB. 


41& 


(1  hears  their 

sf  the  sky.) 

10  sky.)  The 
him  in  circle 
ncs  iiiuiter  in 


i  line) 


field) 
ne.) 


Quenchless  through  half  the  day 
Ooxing  thou  sccst  mo — 

Yon  birds  of  cnrna^ve,  they 
Fright  not  my  gaze  frcm  whee  i 
Baim-wd-ted ! 

ni. 
Bird,  in  thine  niry  rings 
Over  the  focman's  line, 

Why  do  thy  flapping  wings 
Nearer  me  thus  incline? 

Blood  of  the  Dauntless  brings* 
Courage,  oh  Bird  to  thine  I 
Baim-ud-icd ! 

Hark  to  those  Spirit-notes ! 
Ye  high  Heroes  divine, 
Hymned  from  your  god-like  throats 
rhiit  Sotig  of  Praise  is  mine ! 

Mine,  whose  grave-pennon  floatflf 
Over  the  foeman's  line  I 
Baim-ivdrtcd  I 


l.jpi.",''""  "■ 


416 


WAR-80NO. 


WAR   SONO. 


Where  are  my  foes?  say,  warriors,  where?     No  forest  is  so  black, 
That  it  c.in  hide  froin  my  quick  eye,  the  vestige  of  tiieir  track : 
There  is  no  lake  so  boundless,  no  path  where  man  may  go, 
Can  shield  them  from  my  sharp  pursuit,  or  save  them  from  my  blow. 
The  winds  that  whisper  in  the  trees,  the  clouds  that  spot  the  sky, 
Impart  a  soft  intelligence,  to  show  me  where  they  lie, 
The  very  birds  that  sail  the  air,  and  scream  as  on  they  go, 
Give  me  a  clue  my  course  to  tread,  and  lead  me  to  the  foe. 

The  sun,  at  dawn,  lifts  up  his  head,  to  guide  mo  on  my  way. 
The  moon,  at  night,  looks  softly  down,  and  cheers  me  with  her  ray. 
The  war-crowned  stars,  those  beaming  lights,  my  spirit  casts  at  night 
Direct  me  as  I  thread  tKe  maze,  and  had  me  to  llie  fight. 
In  sacred  dreams  withi.i  my  lodge,  while  resting  on  tt)e  land, 
Bright  omens  of  success  arise,  and  nerve  my  warlike  hand 
Where'er  I  turn,  where'er  I  go,  there  is  a  whispering  sound, 
That  tells  me  I  shall  crush  the  foe,  and  drive  him  from  my  grountL 

The  beaming  west  invites  me  on,  with  smiles  of  vermil  hue. 
And  clouds  of  promise  fill  the  sky,  and  deck  its  heavenly  blue, 
There  is  no  breeze — there  is  no  sign,  in  oc«an,  earth  or  sky. 
That  does  not  swell  my  breast  with  hope,  or  animate  my  eye. 
If  to  the  stormy  beach  I  go,  where  heavy  tempests  play. 
They  tell  me  but.  how  warriors  brave,  should  conquer  m  the  fvay, 
All  nature  fills  n  y  heart  with  fires,  that  prompt  mo  on  to  go, 
7'o  rush  with  ra:;e.  and  lifted  spear,  upon  my  country's  foe. 


#- 


APPENDIX. 


NAKRATIVE 

OF  THB  OAPTIVITV  OP 

ALEXANDER    HENRY,  Esq, 
WRITTEN  BY  HIMSELF. 


When  I  reached  Micliilimackinac  I  found  several  other  traders, 
who  had  arrived  before  me,  from  different  parts  of  the  country,  and 
who,  in  general,  dechired  the  disposition  of  tlie  Indians  to  be  hostile 
to  the  English,  and  even  apprehended  some  attack.  M.  Laurent  Du- 
charme  distinctly  informed  Major  Etherington  that  a  plan  was  absolutely 
conceived  for  destroying  him,  his  garrison,  and  all  the  English  in  the 
upper  country;  but  the  commandant  believing  this  and  other  reports 
to  be  without  foundation,  proceeding  only  from  idle  or  ill-disposed 
persons,  and  of  a  tendency  to  do  mischief,  expressed  much  displeasure 
against  M.  Ducharme,  and  threatened  to  send  the  next  person  who 
should  bring  a  story  of  the  same  kind,  a  prisoner  to  Detroit. 

The  garrison,  at  this  time,  consisted  of  ninety  privates,  two  subal- 
terns and  the  commandant;  and  the  English  merchants  at  the  fort 
were  four  in  number.  Thns  strong,  tew  entertained  anxiety  concern- 
ing the  Indians,  who  had  no  weapons  but  small  arms. 

Meanwhile,  the   Indians,  from   every  quarter,  were  daily  assembling, 

in   unusual    numbers,    but   with    every  appearance  of    friendship,  fre- 

.  quenting  the  fort,  and  disposing  of  their  peltries,  in  such  a  manner  as 

to  dissipate  almost   every  one's  fears.     For  myself,   on  one  occasion,  I 

took  the  liberty  of  observing  to  Major  Etherington  that,  in  my  judgment, 

no  confidence   ought    to    be   placed  in   theui,   and   that  I   was   ia- 

formed  no  less  than  four  hundred  lay  around  the  fort 
27 


i 


i^. 


ii 


418 


ALSXASDZK  BESKi'a  OAFTIVITT. 


In  return  the  major  only  rallied  me  on  my  timidity;  and  it  is  to 
be  confessed  that  if  this  officer  neglected  admonition  on  his  part,  so 
did  I  on  mine.  Shortly  after  my  first  arrival  at  Michilimackinac,  in 
the  preceding  year,  a  Chippeway,  named  Wawatam,  began  to  come 
often  to  my  liouse,  betraying  in  his  demeanor  strong  marks  of  personal 
regard.  After  this  had  continued  some  time,  he  came,  on  a  ccrUun 
day,  bringing  with  hira  his  whole  family,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  large 
present,  consisting  of  skins,  sugar,  and  dried  meat  Having  laid  these 
in  a  heap,  he  commenced  a  speech,  in  wliich  he  informed  me  that 
some  years  before  he  had  observed  a  fast,  devoting  himself,  according 
to  the  custom  of  his  nation,  to  solitude,  and  to  the  mortification  of  his 
body,  in  the  hope  to  obtain,  from  the  Great  Spirit,  protection  through 
all  his  days;  that  on  this  occasion  he  had  dreamed  of  adopting  an 
Englishman  as  his  son,  brother  and  friend;  that,  from  the  moment  in 
which  he  first  beheld  me,  he  had  recognized  me  as  the  person  whom  the 
Great  Spirit  had  been  pleased  to  point  out  to  him  for  a  brother;  that 
he  hoped  that  I  would  not  refuse  liis  present;  and  that  he  should 
forever  regard  me  as  one  of  his  family. 

I  could  not  do  otherwise  than  accept  the  present,  and  declare  ray 
willingness  to  liavc  so  good  a  man  as  this  appeared  to  be  for  my 
friend  and  brother.  I  offered  a  present  in  return  for  that  wliich  I 
had  received,  which  Wawatam  accepted,  and  then,  thanking  me  for 
the  favor  which  he  said  that  I  had  rendered  him,  he  left  me,  and 
soon  after  set  out  on  his  winter's  hunt 

Twelve  months  had  now  elapsed  since  the  occurrence  of  this  in- 
cident, and  I  had  almost  forgotten  the  person  of  my  brother,  when  on 
the  second  day  of  June,  Wawatam  came  again  to  my  house,  in  a 
temper  of  mind  visibly  melancholy  and  thoughtful.  He  told  me  that 
he  had  just  returned  from  his  wintering  ground,  and  I  asked  after 
his  health;  but  without  answering  my  question,  he  went  on  to  say, 
that  he  was  sorry  to  find  me  returned  from  the  Sault ;  that  he  intended 
to  go  to  that  place  himself,  immediately  after  his  arrival  at  Micliili- 
mackinac;  and  tl"it  he  wished  me  to  go  there  along  with  him  and 
liis  family  the  next  morning.  To  all  this  he  joined  an  inquiry, 
whether  or  not  the  commandant  had  heard  bad  news,  adding  that 
during  the  winter  he  had  himself  been  frequently  disturbed  with  the 
noise  of  evil  birds;  and  further  suggesting  that  there  were  nu- 
merous Indians  near  the  fort,  many  of  whom  had  never  shown 
themselves  within  it  Wawatam  was  about  forty-five  i  ^ars  of  age,  of 
•B  excellent  character  among  his  nation,  and  a  chie£ 
iteferriDg  much  of  what  be  heard  to  the  peculiarities  of  the  Indian 


ALEXANDER  BENRT'S  CAPTIVITT. 


410 


ind  it  is  to 
liis  part,  so 
aackinac,  in 
in  to   come 

of  personal 
n  a  certain 
Ame,  a  large 
g  laid  these 
led  me  that 
If,  according 
ication  of  his 
tion  through 

adopting  an 
;  moment  in 
on  whom  the 
arother;  that 
it  he  should 

I  declare  my 
}  be  for  my 
that  which  I 
king  me  for 
left  me,  and 

)  of   this  in- 
kier, when  on 
r  house,  in  a 
told   me  that 
;  asked  after 
it  on  to  say, 
t  he  intended 
al  at  Michili- 
rith   him  and 
an   inquiiy, 
adding  that 
•bed  with  the 
ire  were    nu- 
never  shown 
irs  of  age,  of 

of  the  Indian 


character,  I  did  not  pay  all  the  attention  which  they  will  be  found  to 
have  deserved  to  the  entreaties  and  remarks  of  my  visitor.  I  answered 
that  I  could  not  think  of  going  to  the  Sault  so  soon  as  the  next  morning, 
but  would  follow  him  there  after  the  arrival  of  my  clerks.  Finding 
himself  unable  to  prevail  with  me,  he  withdrew  for  that  day;  but 
early  the  next  morning  ho  came  again,  bringing  Avith  him  his  wife, 
and  a  present  of  dried  meat.  At  this  interview,  after  stating  that  he 
had  setferal  packs  of  beaver,  fur  which  he  intended  to  deal  with  ine, 
he  expressed  a  second  time  liis  apprehensions,  from  the  numerous  In- 
dians who  were  around  the  fort,  and  earnestly  pressed  me  to  consent 
to  an  immediate  departure  for  the  Sault.  As  a  reason  for  this  parti- 
cular request,  he  assured  me  tliat  all  the  Indians  proposed  to  come 
in  a  body,  that  day,  to  the  fort,  to  demand  liquor  of  the  command- 
ant, and  that  he  wished  me  to  be  gone  before  they  should  grow 
intoxicated. 

I  had  made,  at  the  period  to  which  I  am  now  referring,  so  much 
^ro^ress  in  the  language  in  which  Wawatam  addressed  me,  as  to^e 
(  hold  an  ordinary  conversation  in  it;  but  the  Indian  manner 
of  ..ech  is  so  extravagantly  figurative  that  it  is  only  for  a  perfect 
master  to  follow  and  comprehend  it  entirely.  Had  I  been  further 
advanced  in  this  respect,  I  think  that  I  should  have  gathered  so  much 
information,  from  this  my  friendly  monitor,  iis  would  have  put  me  into 
possession  of  tlie  design  of  the  enemy,  and  enable  me  to  save,  as  well 
others,  as  myself ;  as  it  was,  it  unfortunately  happened  that  I  turned 
a  deaf  ear  to  every  thing,  leaving  Wawatam  and  his  wife,  after  long 
and  patient,  but  ineffectual  eftbrts,  to  depart  alone,  with  dejected  coun- 
tenances, and  not  before  they  liad  each  let  fall  some  tears. 

In  the  course  of  the  same  day,  I  observed  that  the  Indians  came  in 
great  r.umbers  into  the  fort,  purchasing  tomahawks,  (small  axes  of  one 
pound  weight,)  and  frequently  desiring  to  see  silver  arm-bands,  and 
other  valuable  ornaments,  of  which  I  had  a  large  quantity  for  sale. 
The  ornament'!,  however,  they  in  no  instance  purchjised,  but,  after 
turning  them  over,  left  them,  saying  that  they  would  call  again  the  next 
day.  Their  motive,  as  it  afterward  appeared,  was  no  other  than  the 
very  artful  one  of  discovering,  by  requesting  to  see  them,  the  particular 
places  of  their  dtiposit,  so  that  lliey  might  lay  tlieir  hands  on  them  in  the 
moment  of  pillage  with  the  greater  cerUiinty  and  dispatch. 

At  night,  I  turned  in  my  mind  the  vi.sits  of  Wawatam  ;  but,  though 
they  were  calculated  to  excite  uneasiness,  nothing  induced  me  to  believe 
that  serious  mischief  was  at  hand.  The  next  day,  being  the  fourth  of 
June,  was  the  king's  birth-day. 


»l 


»■;   s 


III 

I 


n 


420 


ALEXANDER   HENRY'S   CAPTIVITY. 


The  morning  was  sultry.  A  Chippeway  came  to  tell  me  that  his 
nation  wiis  going  to  play  at  laggatiwag,  witli  the  Sacs  or  Saakies,  another 
Indian  nation,  lor  a  high  wager.  He  invited  me  to  witness  tlie  sport, 
adding  that  the  commai.uant  was  to  be  there,  and  would  bet  on  the 
gide  of  the  Cliippeways.  In  consequence  of  this  information,  I  went  to 
the  commandant,  and  expostulated  with  liim  a  little,  representing  that 
the  Indians  might  possibly  liave  some  sinister  end  in  view;  but  the 
commandant  only  smiled  at  my  suspicions. 

Baggatiway,  called  by  the  Canadians  le  jcn  de  la  crosse,  is  played 
with  a  bat  and  ball.  Tlu;  bat  is  about  four  feet  in  length,  curved,  and 
terminating  in  a  sort  of  racket.  Two  posts  are  planted  in  the  ground, 
at  a  considerable  distance  from  each  other,  as  a  mile  or  more.  Each 
party  has  its  post,  and  the  game  consists  in  throwing  the  ball  up  to  the 
post  of  the  adversary.  The  ball  at  the  beginning  is  placed  in  the 
middle  of  the  course,  and  each  party  endea\ors  as  well  to  throw  the 
ball  out  of  the  direction  of  its  own  post,  as  into  that  of  the  adver- 
sary's. 

I  did  not  go  myself  to  see  the  match  which  was  now  to  be  played 
without  the  fort,  because,  there  being  a  canoe  prepared  to  depart,  on 
the  following  day  for  Montreal,  I  employed  myself  in  writing  Icttere 
to  my  friends;  and  even  when  a  fellow-trader,  Mr.  Tracj%  happened 
to  call  upon  me,  saying  that  another  canoe  had  just  arrived  from 
Detroit,  and  proposing  that  I  should  go  with  him  to  the  beach,  to 
inquire  the  news,  it  so  happened  that  I  still  remained,  to  finish  my 
letters;  promising  to  follow  Mr.  Tracy  in  the  course  of  a  few  minutes. 
Mr.  Tracy  had  not  gone  more  than  twenty  paces  from  the  door,  when 
I  heard  an  Indian  wai-cvy,  and  a  noise  of  general  confusion. 

Going  instantly  to  my  window,  I  saw  a  crowd  of  Indians  within  the 
fort,  furiously  cutting  down  and  scalping  every  Englisliman  they  found. 
In  particular,  I  witnessed  the  fate  of  Lieutenant  Jemutte. 

I  had  in  tlie  room  in  which  I  was  a  fowling  piece,  loaded  Avith  swan- 
shot  This  I  iininediatcly  seized,  and  held  it  for  a  fiw  mimit(vs,  waiting 
to  hear  t!i.'  drum  beat  to  arms.  In  this  dreadful  interval  I  saw 
several  of  my  countrymen  fall,  and  more  than  one  slinig;4ling  between 
the  knees  of  nn  Indian,  who,  holding  him  in  this  manner,  scalped  him 
while  yet  li\i:ig. 

At  length,  disappointed  in  the  hope  of  seeing  resistance  made  to 
the  enemy,  ;'nd  st'iisible  of  course  that  no  effort  of  my  own  u;  i-^i'sted 
arm  could  avail  against  four  hundred  Indians,  I  thought  only  of  seeking 
shelter.  Anu  l  the  slaughter  which  was  raging,  I  obscrviid  many  of 
the  Canadian  inhabitants  of  the  fort  calmly  looking  on,  neither  opposing 


me  that  his 
ikies,  another 
ss  the  sport, 
I  bet  on  the 
)n,  I  went  to 
3senting'  that 
;w;   but  the 

se,  is  played 
,  curved,  and 
the  ground, 
more.  Each 
)all  up  to  the 
ilaced  in  the 
to  throw  the 
)f  the  udvcr- 

to  be  played 

to  dipart,  on 

ivritino'  lettere 

cy,  liappened 

arrived   from 

he    beach,   to 

to  finish    my 

few  minutes. 

le  door,  when 

sion. 

ins  within  the 
n  tluiy  found. 

(!  with  swan- 
initcs,  wailing 
tcrval   I   saw 

ling  between 
,  scalped  him 

lice  made  to 
wn  w  I'^^'sted 
Illy  of  seeking 
i-ved  many  of 
ither  opposing 


AlBXANDER   HENRY'S   CAPTIVITY. 


421 


the  Indians  nor  suflforing  injury ;  and  from  this  circumstance  I  conceived 
a  hope  of  finding  security  in  their  houses. 

Between  the  yard  door  of  my  own  house  and  that  of  M.  Ijanglade, 
my  iK^xt  neighbor,  tlierc  was  only  a  low  fence,  over  tvhich  I  easily 
climbed.  At  my  entrance  I  found  the  whule  family  at  the  v.indows, 
gazing  at  the  scene  of  blood  before  them.  I  addressed  my.self  immedi 
ately  to  M  Ijanglade,  begoing  that  he  would  put  me  into  some  jilace 
of  s.ifrty,  until  the  heat  of  the  atliiir  should  be  over;  an  act  of  charity 
by  which  he  might  perhaps  preserve  me  from  the  general  massacre ;  but 
while  I  uttered  my  petition,  M.  Langlade,  vho  had  looked  for  a  moment 
at  me,  turned  again  to  the  window,  shrugging  his  shoulders,  and 
intimating  that  he  could  do  nothing  for  me:  "  Que  voudriez-vous  que 
yen  feraia  ?  " 

This  was  a  moment  for  despair;  but  the  next,  a  Pani  woman,**  a  slave 
of  M.  Langlade's,  beckoned  to  me  to  follow  her.  She  brought  me  to 
a  door,  which  she  opened,  desiring  me  to  enter,  and  telling  mc  that  it 
led  to  the  garret,  Aviiere  I  must  go  and  conceal  myselt'.  I  joyfully 
obeyed  her  directions;  and  she,  having  followed  me  up  to  the  garret- 
door,  locked  it  after  me,  and  with  great  presence  of  mind  took  away 
the  key. 

This  shelter  obtained,  if  shelter  I  could  hope  to  find  it,  I  was  natu- 
rally anxious  to  know  what  might  still  be  passing  without.  Through 
an  aperture,  which  afforded  me  a  view  of  the  area  of  the  fort,  I  beheld, 
in  shapes  the  foulest  and  most  terrible,  the  ferocious  triumphs  of 
barbarian  conquerors.  The  di-ad  were  scalped  and  mangled;  the 
dyir.g  were  writhing  and  shrieking  under  the  unsatiated  knife  and 
tomahawk;  and  from  the  bodies  of  some,  rijiped  open,  their  butchers 
were  drinking  the  blood,  sccjopcd  up  in  the  hollow  of  joined  hands, 
and  quailed  amid  shouts  of  rage  and  \ictory.  I  was  shaken  not  only 
with  horror,  but  with  fear.  The  suiferings  which  I  witnessed,  I  seemed 
on  the  point  of  experiencing.  No  long  time  elapsed  before,  every  one 
being  destroyed  who  could  be  found,  there  was  a  general  cry  of  "  All  is 
finished!"  At  the  same  instant  I  heard  some  of  the  Lidians  enter  the 
house  in  which  I  was. 

The  garret  was  separated  from  the  room  below  only  by  a  layer  of 
single  boards,  at  once  the  Hooring  of  the  one  and  the  ceiling  of  the 
other.  I  could  therefore  hear  every  thing  ihat  passed ;  and  the  Indians 
no  sooner  came  in  than  they  inquired  whether  or  not  any  Englislimen 
were  in  the  house.     M.  Langlade  replied  that  "  he  could  not  say ;  he  did 


'  Tlic  Pauies  are  an  Indian  nation  of  the  South. 


422 


▲LBXANOER  HENRT'S   OAPTIVITT. 


not  know  of  any ;"  answers  in  which  lie  did  not  exceed  the  truth ;  for 
the  Pani  woman  had  not  only  hidden  me  by  stealth,  but  kept  my  secret 
and  her  own.  M.  Langlade  was  therefore,  as  I  presume,  as  far  from  a 
wish  to  destroy  me  as  he  was  careless  about  saving  me,  when  he  addisd 
to  these  answers,  that  "  they  might  examine  for  themselves,  and  would 
soon  be  satisfied  as  to  the  object  of  their  queslio ;."  Saying  this,  lie 
brought  them   to  the  t.arret-d(Mji\ 

The  state  of  my  mind  will  be  imagined.  Arrived  at  the  door, 
some  delay  was  oec.isioned  by  the  absence  of  the  key,  and  a  few  mo- 
ments were  thus  allowed  me  in  which  to  look  around  for  a  hiding 
place.  In  one  corner  of  the  garret  was  a  heap  of  those  vessels  of 
birch  bark,  used  in  maple  sugar  making,  as  I  have  recently  des- 
cribed. 

The  door  was  unlocked  and  opened,  and  the  Indians  ascending  the 
sUiirs,  before  I  had  completely  crept  into  a  small  opening  which  pre- 
sented itself  at  one  end  of  the  heap.  An  instant  after,  four  Indians 
entered  the  room,  all  armed  with  tomahawks,  and  all  besmeared  with 
blood  upon  every  part  of  their  bodies. 

The  die  appeared  to  b(!  cast.  I  could  scarcely  breathe  ;  but  I 
thought  the  throbbing  of  my  heart  occasioned  a  noii-e  loud  enough  to 
betray  me.  The  Indians  walked  in  every  direction  about  the  garret, 
and  one  of  them  approa(,'hi;d  me  so  closely  that  at  a  particular  mo- 
ment, had  he  put  forth  his  hand,  he  must  have  tuucliod  me.  Still  I 
remained  undiscovered  ;  a  circumstance  to  which  the  dark  color  of  my 
clothes,  and  the  want  of  light  in  the  room,  which  had  no  window, 
and  in  the  corner  in  which  I  was,  must  have  contributed.  In  a  word, 
after  tjiking  several  turns  in  the  room,  during  which  they  told  M. 
Langlade  how  many  they  had  killed,  and  how  many  scalps  they  had 
taken,  they  returned  down  stiiirs,  and  I,  with  sensations  not  to  be 
fxpresseil,  heard  the  door,  which  was  the  barrier  between  me  and 
ray  fate,  locked  for  the  second  time. 

There  was  a  feather-bed  on  the  floor  ;  and  on  this,  exhausted  Jis 
I  wiis  by  the  agitation  of  my  mind,  I  threw  myself  d(nvn  and  fell 
asleep.  In  this  state  I  remained  li!I  this  dusk  of  the  evening,  when  I 
was  awakened  by  a  second  op(Miiii;^'  of  the  dooi'.  1"he  person  that 
now  entered  was  M.  Lunglade'.s  wife,  who  was  much  surprised  at  find- 
ing me,  but  'ulvised  me  not  to  be  uneasy,  obser\ing  that  the  ludiajis 
had  killed  most  of  the  Eiij^lish,  but  that  she  hoped  I  inigliL  myself 
escape.  A  shower  of  niiii  having  begun  to  fall,  she  had  come  to  stop 
a  hole  in  the  roof.  On  her  going  awny,  I  begged  her  to  send  me 
a  little  water  to  drink  ;  which,  she  did. 


ALKUNDBR  HSRBT'S  0A7TIVITT. 


43S 


,he  truth;  for 
ipt  my  secret 
IS  fur  from  a 
lien  he  addod 
3s,  aiul  would 
lying  this,  lie 

at  the  door, 
J  a  few  nio- 
for  a  hiding 
e  vessels  of 
recently   des- 

scending  the 

g  which  pre- 

foiir  Indians 

smeared  with 

ithe  ;  but  I 
id  enough  to 
t  the  giirret, 
articular  mo- 

me.  Still  I 
:  color  of  my 

no  window, 
In  a  word, 
hoy  told  M. 
Ips  they  had 
IS  not  to  be 
k'een  me  and 

exhausted  as 
own  and  fell 
ining,  when  I 

person  that 
rised  at  fmd- 
t  the  Indians 
night  myself 
come  to  stop 

to   send  me 


As  night  was  now  advancing,  I  continued  to  lie  on  the  bed,  rmni- 
nating  on  my  condition,  but  unable  to  discover  a  resource  from  which 
I  could  hope  for  life.  A  flight  to  Detroit  had  no  probable  chance  of 
success.  The  distance  from  Michilimackinac  was  foiu"  hundred  miles  ; 
I  was  without  provisions  ;  and  the  whole  length  of  the  road  lav 
through  Indian  countries,  countries  of  an  enemy  in  arms,  where  the 
flrst  man  whom  I  should  meet  would  kill  me.  To  stay  where  I  was 
threatened   nearly   the  issue.     As   before,   fatigue   of  mind,   and 

not  tranquility,  s       'ndetl         cares,  and  procured  lue  !   rtlier  sleep. 

The  game  of  baggatiway,  as  from  the  description  above,  will  have 
been  perceived,  is  neci;ssarily  attended  with  much  violence  and  noise. 
In  the  ardor  of  contest,  the  ball,  as  has  been  suggested,  if  it  cannot 
be  thrown  to  the  goal  desired,  is  struck  in  any  direction  by  which  it 
can  be  diverted  from  that  designed  by  the  adversary.  At  such  a 
moment,  therefore,  nothing  could  be  less  liable  to  excit«  premature 
alarm,  than  that  the  ball  should  be  tossed  over  the  pickets  of  the 
P'ort,  nor  that,  having  fallen  there,  it  should  be  followed  on  the  instant 
by  all  engaged  in  the  game,  as  well  the  one  party  as  the  oth(!r,  all 
eager,  all  struggling,  all  shouting,  all  in  the  unrestrained  pursuit  of  a 
rude  athletic  exercise.  Notliing  could  be  less  fitted  to  excite  prema- 
ture alai-m  ;  nothing,  therefore,  could  be  more  happily  devised,  under 
the  circumstances,  than  a  stratagem  like  this  ;  and  this  was,  in  fact, 
the  stratagem  which  the  Indians  had  employed,  by  which  they  had 
obtiiined  possession  of  the  Fort,  and  by  which  they  had  been  enabled 
to  slaughter  and  subdue  its  garrison,  and  such  of  its  other  inha- 
bitants as  they  pleased.  To  be  still  more  certain  of  success,  they 
had  prevailed  upon  as  many  as  they  could,  by  a  pretext  tlie  least 
liable  to  suspicion,  to  come  voluntarily  without  the  pickets  ;  and  par- 
ticularly the  commandant  and  garrison  themselves. 

The  respite  which  sleep  afforded  me,  during  the  night,  was  put  an 
end  to  by  the  return  of  morning.  I  was  again  on  the  rack  of  appre- 
hension. At  sunrise,  I  heard  the  family  stirring;  and  presently  after 
Indi.m  voices,  informing  M.  Langlade  that  they  had  not  found  my 
hapless  self  among  the  dead,  and  they  supposed  me  to  be  some- 
where concealed.  M.  Langlade  appeared,  from  what  followed,  to  be 
by  this  time  acquainted  with  the  place  of  my  r(>treat,  of  which,  no 
doubt,  he  had  been  informed  by  his  wife.  The  poor  woman,  as 
soon  as  the  Indians  mentioned  me,  declared  to  her  husband,  in  the 
P'rench  tongue,  that  he  should  no  longer  keep  me  in  his  house, 
but  deliver  me  up  to  my  pursuers;  giving  as  a  reason  for  this 
jacasure,  that  should  the  Indians  discover  his  instrumentality  in  my 


A-J 


)v 


,H 


'n  i 


424 


▲LZZANDER  H^NRY  S   CAFTIVITT. 


concealment,  tlioy  might  revenge  it  on  her  cliildrcn,  and  that  it  was 
better  that  I  should  die  than  tluy.  M.  Liinylado  resisted  at  first 
this  sentence  of  his  wife's,  but  soon  suffered  her  to  prevail,  infurmiiig 
the  Indians  that  he  had  been  told  I  was  in  h'  house,  that  I  had 
lome  (hero  without  hi.s  knowlec  •>,  niid  that  he  would  put  mo 
iiito  their  hands  '  This  was  no  sooner  e.\j)ressed  than  he  bu^an  to 
ascend   the   stairs,  the   Indians  following'  upon  his   heels. 

I  now  resigned  myself  to  the  fate  with  which  I  was  menaced  ; 
and  regarding  every  attempt  at  concealment  ius  vain,  I  arose  fn^m  tho 
bed,  and  presented  myhelf  full  in  view  to  the  Indians  who  were  enter- 
ing the  rooia  They  were  all  in  u  state  of  intoxication,  and  entirely 
naked,  except  about  the  middle.  One  of  them,  named  Wenniway, 
whom  I  had  previously  known,  and  who  wiis  upward  of  six  feet  in 
height,  had  his  entire  face  and  body  covered  with  charcoal  and  grease, 
only  that  a  white  .«pi  t,  of  two  inches  in  diameter,  encircled  either  eye. 
This  man  walked  uji  tu  me,  seized  me  with  one  hand  by  the  colliir 
of  tlie  coat,  while  in  the  other  he  luild  a  large  car\iiig  knife,  as  if  to 
plunge  it  i;i  my  breast ;  his  eyes  meanwhile  were  ILved  steadfastly  on 
mine.  At  length,  after  some  seconds  of  the  most  anxious  suspense, 
he  dropped  his  arm,  saying,  "  1  won't  kill  you  !"  To  this  he  added, 
that  he  had  frequently  en;  ged'  in  wars  against  ihy,  KngUsli,  and  had 
brought  away  many  seal]  that  on  a  certain  oeeasiim  he  had  lost  a 
brother,  whose  name  was  Muioigon,  and  that  I  slionKl  be  called  after  him, 

A  rejjrieve  upDU  any  terms  placed  me  among  the  living,  and  gave 
me  back  the  sustaining  voice  of  hope  ;  but  Wenniway  ordered  me 
down  stairs,  and  there  informed  me  that  I  was  to  be  taken  to  his 
cabin,  where,  and  indeed  every  where  else,  thi!  Indians  were  all  mad 
with  lijuor,  death  agiiin  was  threatened,  and  not  as  possible  only,  but 
as  certiun.  I  mentioned  my  ferns  on  this  subject  tt  M.  Langlade, 
begging  him  to  represent  the  danger  to  my  master.  M.  Langlade,  in 
this  ni^lanee,  did  not  withhold  his  ci)mpassion,  and  Wei.niway  immedi- 
ately consented  that  I  should  remain  where  I  was,  unti!  he  found 
another  opportuiity  to  take  me  away. 

Thus  far  secure,  I  reascended  my  garret  stairs,  in  ■miei  to  pliice 
myself  the  furthest  poshible  out  of  the  reach  of  insult  iioni  tliunken 
Indians;  but  I  had  not  remained  there  nmre  than  an  limif,  when  I 
was  calljd  to  the  room  below,  in  whieli  v.as  an  Indian,  wIid  said  that 
I  must  go  with  him  out  of  the  Fort,  ^Venniway  having  sent  him  to 
fetch  me.  Tiiis  man,  as  well  as  Wenniway  himself,  I  had  seen  before. 
In  the  preceding  year,  1  had  allowed  him  to  take  goods  on  credit, 
f(»r  which  he  was  still  in  my  debt ;  and  some  short  time  previous  to 


that  it  was 
sti'd  at  first 
lil,  infurining 

tliiit  I  had 
lid  put  mo 
110   ])f^'iia  to 

3    nii'iiiiced  ; 
ose  from  tlie 

0  were  entcr- 
and   cnUi'L'ly 

1  Wenniwiiy, 
of  six  feet  ia 
il  and  grease, 
■d  either  eye, 
hy  the  coUiir 
kuifi',  as  if  to 
steadfastly  on 
Diis  su.-peiise, 
his  he  added, 
^■!ish,  and  had 
le  liad  lost  a 
tiled  after  him. 
in^',  and  gave 

ordered   me 

taken   to   his 

ivere   all   mad 

ihle  only,  but 

yl.   Langlade, 

Langlade,  in 

invay  immedi- 

11  ti!    he    found 

niei  to  pliice 
iroiii  (l;unk(.'n 
liDUr,  wlien  I 
uliD  sail!  that 
sent  him  to 
1  seen  before. 
)ds  on  credit, 
0   previous  to 


▲LBXJLKDER  BEiniY'S  CAPTITITr. 


426 


llie  Bnrpriso  of  the  Fort,  he  had  said,  upon  my  upbraiding  him  with 
want  of  honesty,  that  "ho  Avould  pay  me  before  long!"  Tliis  speech 
now  came  frrsh  into  my  raomory,  and  led  me  to  suspect  that  the  fellow 
had  formed  a  design  against  niy  life.  I  communicated  the  suspicion 
to  M.  Langlade  ;  but  ho  gave  for  answer  that  "  I  wtus  not  now  my 
own  master,  and  must  do  as  I  was  ordered." 

The  Indian,  on  his  part,  directed  that  before  I  loft  the  hous-s  I 
should  undress  myself,  declaring  that  my  coat  and  shirt  would  become 
him  belter  thmi  they  did  me.  His  ph-asure  in  this  respect  being 
comi)lied  with,  no  other  alternative  was  left  me  than  either  to  go  out 
naked,  or  put  on  the  clothes  of  the  Indian,  which  he  freely  gave  me 
in  exchange.  His  m(jtive  for  thus  stripping  me  of  my  own  apparel 
was  no  other,  ua  I  afterwards  learniid,  than  this,  that  it  might  not  bo 
stained  with  blood  when  he  should  kill   me. 

I  wiis  now  told  to  proceed;  and  my  driver  followed  me  close,  until 
I  had  passed  the  gate  of  the  Fort,  when  I  turned  toward  the  spot 
whore  I  knew  the  Indians  to  be  encamped.  This,  h(jwevor,  did  not 
suit  the  purpose  of  my  enemy,  who  seized  me  by  the  arm,  and  drew 
me  violently  in  the  ojiposite  direction,  to  the  distance  of  fifty  yards 
above  the  Fort  Here,  finding  that  I  was  approaching  the  bushes  and 
sand  hills,  I  determined  to  proceed  no  further,  but  told  the  Indian  that 
I  believed  ho  meant  to  murder  me,  and  if  so  he  might  as  well  strike 
where  I  was  as  at  any  greater  distance.  He  replied  Avith  c(jclness, 
that  my  suspicions  were  just,  and  that  he  meant  to  pay  mo  in  this 
manner  for  my  goods.  At  the  same  time  he  produced  a  knife,  and 
held  me  in  a  position  to  receive  the  intended  blow.  Both  this  and 
that  which  followed  were  necessarily  the  affair  of  a  moment.  I5y  some 
effort,  too  sudden  and  too  little  dependent  on  thought  to  be  explained 
or  remembered,  I  w;is  enabled  to  arrest  his  arm,  and  give  him  a  sud- 
den push,  by  which  I  turned  him  from  me,  and  released  mys(^lf  from 
his  o-rasp.  This  was  no  sooner  done  than  I  ran  toward  the  F(jrt, 
with  all  the  swiftness  in  my  power,  the  Indian  following  me,  and  I 
expecting  every  moment  to  feel  his  knife.  I  succeeded  in  my  flight; 
and,  on  entering  the  Fort,  I  saw  Wenniway  standing  in  the  midst  of 
the  area,  and  to  him  I  hastened  for  protection.  Wenniway  desired 
the  Indian  to  desist  ;  but  the  latter  pursued  me  round  him,  making 
several  strokes  at  me  with  his  knife,  and  foaming  at  the  mouth  with 
rago  at  the  repeated  failure  of  his  purpose.  At  length  Wenniway 
drew  near  to  M.  Langlade's  house  ;  and  the  door  being  open,  I  nm 
into  it.  The  Indian  followed  me  ;  but  on  my  entering  the  house,  he 
voluntarily  abandoned  the   pm'suit 


'K'f< 


4M 


AUtXANDSR  niNRT'S  OAFTTnTT. 


Preserved  so  often,  and  so  uncxpcctcdl v,  as  it  had  now  been  my  lot  to 
be,  I  returned  to  my  garret,  with  a  strong  iiielinatiitn  to  believe  tl)at, 
through  tho  will  of  an  overruling  power,  no  Indian  enemy  could  do  mo 
hurt;  but  new  trials,  as  I  believed,  were  at  hand,  when,  at  ten  o'eloek  in 
tho  evening,  I  was  roused  from  sleep,  and  once  more  desired  to  d^^seelul 
the  stairs.  Not  less,  however,  to  my  uulisfaction  than  surprise,  I  Wiis 
summoned  only  to  meet  Major  Etherington,  Mr.  Bostwick,  and  Lieu- 
tenant Lesslie,  who  were  in  tho  room  below. 

These  gentlemen  had  been  taken  prisoners,  while  Kwking  at  the  game, 
without  the  Fort,  and  immediately  stripped  of  all  thiar  clothes.  They 
were  now  sent  into  tho  fori,  under  the  charge  of  Canadians,  because,  the 
Indians  having  resolved  on  getting  drunk,  the  cliiefs  were  apprehensive 
that  they  would  be  murdered  if  they  continued  in  the  camp.  Lieutenant 
Jemette  and  seventy  soldiers  had  been  killed  ;  and  but  twenty  English- 
men, including  soldiers,  were  still  alive.  These  were  all  within  the  fort, 
together  with  nearly  tiiree  hundred  Canadians  belonging  to  the  canoes,  tfec. 
Thtse  being  our  numbers,  myself  and  others  proposed  to  Maj.  Pilther- 
ington  to  make  an  effort  for  regaining  possesion  of  the  fort,  and  maintain- 
ing it  against  tho  Indians.  The  Jesuit  missionary  wit.s  consultcid  on  the 
project  ;  but  he  discouraged  us,  by  his  representations,  not  only  of  tho 
merciless  treatment  which  we  must  expect  from  the  Indians,  should  tlu.y 
regain  their  superioiity,  Init  of  the  little  di>pendence  which  was  to  bo 
placed  upon  our  Canadian  auxiliaries.  Thus  the  fort  ami  prisoners 
remained  in  the  hands  of  the  Indians,  though,  through  the  whole  night, 
the  prisoners  and  whites  were  in  actuiU  possession,  and  they  were  with- 
out the  gates. 

That  Avliole  night,  or  the  greater  part  of  it,  was  passed  in  mutual 
condolence  ;  and  my  fellow-prisoners  shared  ray  garret.  In  tha  morn- 
ing, being  agjiin  called  down,  I  found  my  master,  Wenniway,  and  was 
desired  to  follow  him.  He  led  me  to  a  small  house,  within  the  fort, 
where,  in  a  narrow  room,  and  almost  dark,  I  found  Mr.  Ezekiel  Solo- 
mons, an  Englishman  from  Detroit,  and  a  soldier,  all  prisonc^rs.  With 
th(!se,  I  remained  in  painful  suspense,  as  to  the  scene  tiiiit  was  next 
to  present  itself,  till  ten  o'clock  in  tho  forenoon,  when  an  Indian  ar- 
rived, and  presently  marched  us  to  the  lake  side,  where  a  canoe 
appeared  ready  for  departure,  and  in  which  we  found  that  we  were 
to  embark. 

Our  voyage,  full  of  doubt  as  it  was,  would  have  commenced  imme- 
diately, but  that  one  of  the  Indians,  who  was  to  be  of  the  party,  was 
absent,  Ilis  arrival  Avas  to  be  waited  for  ;  and  this  occasioned  n  \(My 
long  delay,  during  which  we  were  exposed  to  a  keen  nortli-eiii4  ■«••«'! 


ALIXANOKR  mtiniT'B  CAPTIVITT. 


427 


I  my  lot  to 
'licvo  tlint, 
uld  do  mo 
1  o'clock  in 

to  dt'soi'iul 
riso,  I  was 

iind  Lieu- 

t  tht!  game, 
les.  Tlit'y 
leciiuse,  the 
pprt'heiisivo 

Lieutenant 
ity  English- 
lin  the  fort, 
!  canoes,  itc. 

Maj.  Kthor- 
id  muintain- 
lt(^d  on  the 

only  of  tlie 
should  thi^y 

was   to  be 
d   prisoners 

hole   ni;,fht, 

were  with- 
in mutual 
the   morn- 

ly,  and  was 
n  tlie  fort, 

zc.ldel   Solo- 

lers.     With 

t  was  next 

Indian    ar- 

a    canoo 

it    we  weru 

need  imme- 
jiarty,  was 
)ned  !i.  very 
i-eii*t  M-'Jvl 


An  old  shirt  wiis  all  thiit  covered  me  ;  I  sufFercd  much  from  the 
cold  ;  and  in  this  extremity,  M.  Langlade  coming  down  to  the  beach, 
I  nsked  him  for  a  blanket,  promising  if  I  lived  to  pay  him  for  it,  at 
any  price  ho  pleased  ;  but  the  answer  I  received  was  this,  that  ho 
could  let  mo  have  no  blanket  unless  there  were  some  one  to  bo  secu- 
rity for  the  payment.  For  myself,  he  observed,  1  had  no  longer  any  prop- 
erty in  that  country.  I  had  no  more  to  .say  to  M.  Langlade  ;  bu' 
presently  seeing  another  Canadian,  named  John  Cuchoise,  I  addressed 
to  him  a  similar  request,  and  was  not  refused.  Naked  as  I  was,  and 
rigorous  Jis  was  the  weather,  but  for  the  blanket  I  must  have  perislied. 
At  noon,  our  party  was  all  collected,  the  prisoners  all  embarked,  and  we 
steered  for  the  Isle  du  Castor,  [Beaver  Island,  |  in  Lake  Michigan. 

The  soldier,  who  was  our  companion  in  misfurtime,  was  made  fast  to 
a  bn-  of  the  canoe,  by  a  rope  tied  round  his  neck,  as  is  the  maimer 
of  the  Indians  in  transporting  their  prisoners.  Ti»e  rest  were  left 
uncoi.lined  ;  but  a  paddle  was  put  into  each  of  our  hands,  and  we 
were  made  to  uso  it.  The  Indians  in  tho  canou  were  seven  in  num- 
ber, the  prisoners  four.  I  had  left,  as  it  will  bo  recollected.  Major 
Etherington,  Lieutenant  Lessiie  and  Mr.  Bostwick,  at  M.  Langlade's,  and 
was  now  joined  in  miseiy  with  Mr  Ezekiel  Solomons,  the  soldier,  and 
the  Englishman  who  had  newly  arrived  from  Detroit  This  was  on 
the  sixth  day  of  June.  Tlu)  Fort  was  taken  on  the  fourth  ;  I  surren- 
dered myself  to  Wenniway  on  the  fifth  ;  and  this  was  tlie  third  day 
of  our  distress. 

We  were  bound,  as  I  have  said,  for  the  Isles  du  Csistor,  which  lie 
in  the  mouth  of  Lake  Michigan  ;  and  we  should  have  crossed  tho 
lake,  but  that  a  thick  fog  came  on,  on  account  of  wliicii  the  Indians 
deemed  it  .safer  to  keep  the  shore  close  under  their  lee.  We  there- 
fore approached  the  lands^  of  the  Ottawas,  and  their  village  of 
L'Arbre  Croche,  already  mentioned  as  lying  about  twenty  miles  to  the 
westward  of  Michilimackinac,  on  the  opposite  side  of  tho  tongue  of 
land   on  which  the   Fort  is  built. 

livery  half  hour,  the  Indians  gave  their  warwhoop,  ane  for  every 
prisoner  in  their  canoe.  This  is  a  geniiral  custom,  by  the  aid  of 
which,  all  otlujr  Indians,  within  hearing,  arc  apprised  of  the  number 
of  prisoners  they  are  carrying. 

In  this  manner  we  reached  Wagoshense,  Fox-point,  a  long  point, 
stretching;  westward  into  the  lake,  and  which  the  Ottawns  make  a 
carrying  place,  to  avoid  going  round  it.  It  is  distant  eighteen  miles 
from  Michilimackinac.  After  tho  Indians  had  made  their  warwhoop, 
as  before,  an  Ottawa  appeared  upon  tho  beach,  who  made  signs  that  we 


it 


"i.'i 


428 


ALKXANDBR    nKNRv's   OAPTIVITr. 


I 


should  land.  In  consc(Hi<'iicc,  we  iiji|irii:u'lic(l.  Tho  Ottiiwii  isltcd  thft 
iu!ws,  and  kcjit  iho  Clii|)i)c\v;iys  in  I'lutlicr  cDiivcrsution,  till  we  woro 
within  a  fow  yards  of  tin-  iatul,  and  in  bhalhnv  water.  At  this  mo- 
nunt,  a  hnndrcd  men  ruxliud  iijiun  uh,  from  aniDiig  tin'  1)us1ks,  and 
draj;i;rd  all  the  i/risnncrs  nut  nl"  iIr!  caiUM',  amid  a  trnil} iii'^-  sh(jut. 
Wo  nuw  b«lii'VtHl  that  our  last  suflfrings  wrro  approachin;,'  ;  hut 
no  S(Xiner  wtrc  wo  fairly  on  Hhore,  and  on  our  loys,  tlian  llu;  chicfa 
of  the  party  advanced,  and  j^avc  each  of  us  tlu-ir  hands,  t<Hini,'  ns  |!,  it  they 
wore  our  friends,  and  Ottawas,  wliom  tlu;  C'liippcways  had  insnllt'd, 
by  dfstroyinjjf  the  Knglish  without  eonsuhin^'  with  thum  on  tiie  atfair. 
They  added  that  wliat  tiiey  had  done  was  for  the  jjurpose  of  saving 
our  lives,  the  Ciiipju-ways  having  been  carrying  us  to  the  isles  du 
Ciustor  only  to  kill  ami   devour  us. 

The  reader's  inia;^inalion  is  hero  distracted  by  the  variety  of  our 
fortunes,  and  he  may  well  paint  to  himself  tins  state  of  mind  of  those 
who  siiNtaiiiiHl  Ihein,  wIkj  were  the  sport  or  the  vielims  of  a  series 
of  events,  more  like  dreams  than  realities,  more  like  tietion  than  truth! 
It  was  not  long  htlnre  we  were  onibarkid  again,  in  the  imiiois  of 
the  Oltawas,  who,  the  same  evening,  relandcd  us  at  Miiliiljiiiackinac, 
where  they  itiarehed  us  into  the  Fort,  in  vii'W  of  the  t'liijipewas, 
confounded  at  beholding  the  Ottawas  espousing  a  side  oppoMte  to 
their  own. 

The  Ottawas,  who  hid  accompanied  us  in  suflicient  numbers,  took  poa- 
sessi(jM  of  the  F(irt.  We,  who  had  changed  masters,  but  wen;  still  [uisoners, 
were  lodifod  in  the  house  of  the  commandant,  and  strictlv  iruardcd. 

Early  the  next  morning,  a  general  council  was  held,  in  which  the 
Chippeways  com])Iained  much  of  the  conduct  of  the  Gitawas,  in  rob- 
bing them  of  their  prisoners  ;  alleging  that  all  the  Indians,  the  Otta- 
was tdonc  excepted,  were  at  war  with  the  English  ;  that  Pontine  had 
taken  Detroit  ;  that  the  King  of  France  had  awoke,  and  ri'possessed 
himself  of  (Quebec  and  Montreal  ;  and  that  the  English  \v(!re  nuujting 
destruction,  not  only  at  Michilimxckinac,  but  in  every  other  part  of  the 
■world.  From  all  this  they  inferred  that  it  became  the  Ottawas  to 
restore  the  prisoners,  aiul  to  join  in  the  war  ;  and  thi;  sj)eech  was 
followed  by  large,  presents,  being  part  of  the  plunder  of  the  Fort,  and 
which  Avas  previously  heaped  in  the  center  of  th(^  room.  The  Indians 
rarely  make  their  answers  till  the  day  after  they  have  heard  th(.'  argu- 
ments offered.  They  did  not  dejjurt  from  their  custom  on  this  occasion; 
and  the  council  therefore  adjourned. 

We,  the  prisoners,  whose  fate  was  thus  in  controversy,  -were  unacquainted 
at  the  time  with  this  transaction  ;    and  therefore  enjoyed  a  night  of 


I      i 


ALIXANDBK   nXNRT'a   OAPTIVITT. 


42» 


tolerable  tmncpiility,  not  in  iIk;  least  suspeoliiK^  tlm  rovorw  which  was 
pi-('|iiiniiL,'  for  us.  \Viiici\  of  tho  nrLjuintiits  of  tlio  Chippcwiiys,  or 
wia'tlnr  or  not  all  wen:  (l('<!nie(l  valid  hy  (lir  OttiiWiis,  I  cannut  sny  ; 
but  the  coumil  was  rt'sunicfl  iit  an  curly  hour  in  tlu;  niornintf,  and, 
uftir  81'vt'ral  Hjurclics  hud  bi'cn  made  in  it,  the  prisoners  were  sent 
for,  and  ntunied  to  tiie  ('liij)|)c\vays.    ' 

The  Ottiiwas,  who  now  f;iive  us  into  the  hands  of  the  Chippcwnyn, 
had  themselves  deolan-d  tliat  the  latter  desij^ned  no  other  than  to  kill 
us,  and  make  hrotli  <>/  us.  The  (.'liippeways,  as  Ho<jn  as  we  were  re- 
Btored  to  tlieni,  maiched  us  to  a  village  of  their  own,  situate  on  the 
point  wliieli  is  below,  the  Fort,  and  put  us  into  a  ' 'dge,  already  the 
prison  of  fourteen  soMiers,  ti(.'d  two  and  two,  with  'aeh  a  rope  about 
his  neck,  and  made  fast  to  a  pole  which  mi;j[ht  bo  culled  the  supporter 
of  the    buildiriLj:, 

I  was  left  unti(>d ;  but  I  passed  a  night  sleepless  and  full  of  .  retch- 
edness.  My  bed  was  the  bare  ground,  and  I  was  again  reduced  to  an 
old  siiirt,  as  my  entire  apparel  ;  the  blanket  which  1  had  received, 
through  the  gencirosity  of  M.  Cuchoise,  having  beitii  taken  'Vom  mo 
among  tlu!  Ouawiis,  when  they  seized  upon  myself  and  tiie  .th.  i  s,  at 
VVagoshense.  1  was,  besides,  in  want  of  food,  having  for  .wo  liays 
eaten    nothinu;. 

I  confess  that  in  the  canoe  with  the  Chippeways  I  was  offered 
bread;  but,  bread,  with  what  accompaniment?  They  had  a  loaf,  which 
they  cut  with  tho  same  knives  that  they  hiul  employed  in  the  massa- 
cre— knives  still  covered  with  blood.  The  blood  they  moistejied  with 
spittle,  and  rubbing  it  on  the  bread,  offered  this  for  food  to  their  pris- 
oners, telling  them  to  cat  tho  blood  of  their  countrymen. 

Such  was  my  situation  on  the  morning  of  the  seventh  of  June,  in  tho 
year  one  thousand  seven  hundred  and  sixty-thrco  ;  but  a  few  hours 
produced  an  event  which  gfive  still  a  new  color  to  my  lot 

Toward  noon,  when  the  great  war-chief,  in  ^nm!  ,  my  with  Wonniway 
was  seateil  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  lodge,  ray  friond  and  brother,  Wa- 
•watam,  suddeidy  came  in.  During  the  four  days  preceding,  1  had  often 
wondered  what  had  become  of  him.  In  p.v -ing  by  he  gave  me  his  hand 
but  went  immediately  toward  tho  grea^  c'liof,  by  tho  side  of  whom  and 
Weniiiway,  he  sat  himself  down.  The  most  uninterrupted  silence  pre- 
vaileil  ;  each  smoked  his  pipe  ;  and  this  done,  Wawatam  arose,  and  left 
the  loJge,  saying  to  me,  a;--  he  passed,  "  Take  courage  ! " 

An  hour  elapse.d,  during  which  several  chiefs  entered,  and  prepara- 
tions appeared  to  be  milking  for  a  council.  At  length,  Wawatam 
ro-eriteiuJ    tho   lodge,  followed  by  his  wife,   and  both   loaded  mth 


430 


ALEXANDER  HENRY'B   OAPTIVITT. 


:!i 


merchandise,  wliicli  they  carried  up  to  the  chiefs,  and  laid  in  a  heap 
bcfcire  them.  Some  moments  of  silence  followed,  at  the  end  of 
which,  Wawatimi  pronoimccd  a  speech,  every  word  of  which,  to  me, 
was  of  extraordinary  interest: 

"Friends  and  relations,"  he  began,  "what  is  it  that  I  shall  say? 
You  know  what  I  feel.  You  'all  have  friends  and  brothers  and  chil- 
dren, whom  ajs  yourselves  you  love;  and  you,  what  would  you  expe» 
rionoe,  did  you,  hke  me,  behold  your  dearest  friend — your  brother — in 
the  condition  of  a  slave ;  a  slave  exposed  every  moment  to  insult,  and  to 
menaces  of  death  ?  This  case,  as  you  all  know,  is  mine.  See  there, 
{^pointing  to  my»elf,)  my  friend  and  brother  among  slaves,  liimself  a 
slave  ! 

"  You  all  well  know  that  long  before  the  war  began,  I  adopted  him  as 
my  brother.  From  that  moment  he  became  one  of  my  family,  so  that 
no  change  of  circiunstances  could  break  the  cord  wliich  ftistened  us 
together. 

"  He  is  my  brotlher;  and,  because  I  am  your  relation,  he  is  therefore 
your  relation,  too  :  and  how,  being  your  relation,  can  he  be  your 
slave  ? 

"  On  the  day  on  which  the  war  began,  you  were  fearful,  lest  on 
this  very  account,  I  should  reveal  your  secret  You  requested,  there- 
fore, that  I  would  leave  the  Fort,  and  even  cross  the  lake.  I  did  so, 
but  did  it  with  reluctance.  I  did  it  with  reluctance,  notwithstanding 
that  you,  Menehwehna,  who  had  the  command  in  this  enterprise,  gave 
me  your  promise  that  you  would  protect  my  friend,  delivering  him 
from  all  danger,  and  giving  him  safely  to  me. 

"  The  performance  of  tliis  promise  I  now  claim.  I  come  not  with 
empty  hands  to  ask  it  You,  Menehwehna,  best  know  whether  or  not, 
as  it  respects  yourself,  you  have  kept  your  word;  but  I  bring  these 
goods,  to  buy  off  every  claim  which  any  man  among  you  all  may  have 
on  my  brother,  as  his  prisoner." 

Wawatam  having  ceased,  the  pipes  were  again  filled ;  and,  after  they 
were  finished,  a  further  period  of  silence  followed.  At  the  end  if 
this,  Menehwehna  arose  and  gave  his  reply: 

"  My  relation  and  brother,"  said  he,  "  what  you  have  spoken  is  the 
truth.  We  were  acquainted  with  the  friendship  which  subsisted  between 
yourself  and  the  Englishman,  in  whose  behalf  you  have  now  addressed 
us.  We  knew  the  danger  of  having  our  secret  discovered,  and  the 
consequences  which  must  follow ;  and  you  say  truly  that  we  requested 
you  to  leave  the  Fort  This  we  did  out  of  regard  for  you  and  your 
iamily:  for,  if  a  discovery  of  our  design  had  been  made,  you  would 


ALEXANDER  HENRT'S   CAPTITITT. 


481 


have  been  blamed,  wliether  guilty  or  not;  and  you  would  thus  have 
been  involved  in  difficulties  from  which  you  could  not  have  extri- 
cated  yourself. 

"  It  is  iUso  true  that  I  promised  you  to  take  care  of  your  friend; 
and  this  promise  I  performed,  by  desiring  my  son,  at  the  moment  of 
assault,  to  seek  him  out,  and  bring  him  to  my  lodge.  He  went 
accordingly,  but  could  not  find  him.  The  day  after  I  sent  him  to 
Langlade's,  when  he  was  informed  that  your  friend  was  safe ;  and  had 
it  not  been  that  the  Indians  were  then  drinking  the  rum  which  had 
been  found  in  the  Fort,  he  would  have  brought  liim  homo  with  him, 
according   to  my  orders. 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  find  that  your  friend  hcis  escaped.  We  ac- 
cept your   present;  and  you   may   take   him  home  with   you." 

Wawatam  thanked  the  a.ssembled  chiefs,  and  taking  me  by  the 
hand,  led  me  to  liis  lodge,  which  was  at  the  distance  of  a  few  yards 
only  from  the  prison  lodge.  My  entrance  appeared  to  give  joy  to  the 
whole  family ;  food  was  immediately  prepared  for  me ;  and  I  now  ate 
the  first  hearty  meal  which  I  had  made  since  my  capture.  I  found 
myself  one  of  the  family;  and  but  that  I  had  still  my  fears,  as  to 
the  other  Indians,  I  felt  iis   happy  as   the  situation  could  allow. 

In  the  course  of  the  next  morning,  I  wa.s  alarmed  by  a  noise  in 
the  prison  lodge ;  and  looking  through  the  openings  oi,  the  lodge  in 
'vhich  I  was,  I  saw  seven  dead  bodies  of  white  men  dragged  forth 
Upon  my  inquiry  into  the  occasion,  I  was  informed  that  a  certam 
chief,  called  by  the  Canadians  Le  Grand  Sable,  had  not  long  before 
arrived  from  his  winter's  hunt ;  and  that  he  having  been  absent  when 
the  war  begun,  and  being  now  desirous  of  manifesting  to  the  Indians 
at  large  his  hearty  concurrence  in  what  they  had  done,  had  gone 
into  the  prison  lodge,  and  there,  with  his  knife,  put  the  seven  men, 
whose   bodies  I   had  seen,  to   death. 

Shortly  after,  two  of  the  Indians  took  one  of  the  dead  bodies,  which 
they  chose  as  being  the  fattest,  cut  off  the  head,  and  divided  the  whole 
mto  five  parts,  one  of  which  was  put  into  each  of  five  kettles,  hung  over 
as  many  fires  kindled  for  this  purpose,  at  the  door  of  the  prison  lodge. 
Soon  after  things  were  so  far  prepared,  a  message  came  to  our  lodge, 
with  an  invitation  to  Wawatj^m  to  assist  at  the  feast 

An  invitation  to  a  feast  is  given  by  him  who  is  the  master  of  it     Small 

cuttings  of   cedar  wood,  of  about  four  inches  in  length,  supply  the 

place  of  cards ;  and  the  bearer  by  word  of  mouth  states  the  particular! 

Wawatam  obeyed  the  summons,  taking  with  him,  as  usual,  to  the 

p!ace  of  entertainment,  his  dish  and  spoon. 


M, 


p 


482 


ALEXANDER   HENBT'S   CAPTIVITT. 


After  an  absence  of  about  half  an  hour,  he  returned,  bringing  in  his 
dish  a  human  liand,  and  a  large  piece  of  flesh.  He  did  not  appear  to 
relish  tlie  repast,  but  told  me  that  it  was  then,  and  always  liad  been 
the  custom  among  all  the  Indian  nations,  when  returning  from  war,  or 
on  overcoming  their  enemies,  to  make  a  war-feast  from  among  the  slain. 
This  he  said  inspired  the  warrior  with  courage  in  attack,  and  bred  liim 
to  meet  death  with  fearlessness. 

In  the  evening  of  the  same  day,  a  large  canoe,  such  as  those  which 
came  from  Montreal,  was  seen  advancing  to  the  fort  It  was  full  of 
men,  and  I  distinguished  several  passengers.  The  Indian  cry  was  made 
in  the  village;  a  general  muster  ordered  ;  and  to  the  number  of  two 
hundred  tlusy  marched  up  to  the  fort,  where  the  canoe  was  expected 
.  to  land.  The  canoe,  suspecting  nothing,  came  boldly  to  the  fort,  wliere 
the  passengers,  as  being  English  traders,  were  seized,  dragged  through 
the  water,  beat,  nn-iled,  marched  to  the  prison  lodge,  and  there  stripped 
of  their  clothes  and  contincd. 

Of  the  English  traders  that  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Indians  at 
the  cajiture  of  the  Fort,  Mr.  Tracy  was  the  only  one  who  lost  his  life. 
Mr.  Ezekiel  Solomons  and  Mr.  Henry  liostwick  were  fciken  by  the  Otta- 
was,  and  after  the  peace  carried  down  to  Montreal,  and  there  ransomed. 
Of  ninety  troops,  about  seventy  were  killed ;  the  rest,  togetlicr  with  those 
of  the  posts  in  the  Bay  des  Puants,  and  at  the  river  St.  Joseph,  were 
also  kept  in  safety  hy  the  Ottawas  tUl  the  peace  and  then  either  freely 
restored,  or  ransonioc  at  Montreal.  The  Ottawas  never  overcame  their 
disgust  at  the  neglect  with  which  they  had  been  treated,  in  the  be- 
ginning of  the  war,  by  those  who  afterwards  desired  their  assistance 
as  allies. 

In  the  morning  of  the  ninth  of  June,  a  general  council  was  held, 
at  which  it  was  agreed  to  remove  to  the  island  of  Mieliilimackiniic,  as  a 
more  defensible  situation  in  the  event  of  an  attack  by  the  English.  The 
Indians  had  begun  to  entertain  apprehensions  of  want  of  strength.  No 
news  ha  reached  them  from  the  Poti;  vataraies,  in  the  Bay  des  Puants ; 
and  they  were  uncertain  whether  or  not  the  Monomins  would  join 
them.  They  even  feared  that  the  Sioux  would  take  the  English  side. 
This  resolution  fixed,  they  prepared  for  a  speedy  retreat.  At  noon 
the  camp  was  brokeo  up,  and  we  embarked,  taking  with  us  the  pris- 
oners that  were  sdll  undisposed  of  On  our  passage  we  encountered 
a  gale  of  wind,  and  there  were  some  appearances  of  danger.  To  averl 
it,  a  dojT,  of  whicli  the  legs  were  previously  tied  together,  wfw  thrown 
into  the  lake ;  an  offeiing  designed  to  soothe  the  angry  passions  of  some 
offended  Manila 


ALEXANDKU    IIENPY'S    CAPTIVITV. 


433 


ring  in  his 
appear  to 
had  been 

jm  war,  or 

rr  the  slain. 

I  bred  him 

hose  which 
vas  full  of 
f  wiis  made 
bcr  of  two 
18  expected 
fort,  where 
Tcd  through 
ure  stripped 

Indians  at 
lost  his  life, 
by  the  Otta- 
re  ransomed. 
cr  with  those 
oseph,  were 
either  fi'c-t'ly 
ercamii  their 
,  in  the  be- 
iir  asisistanco 

W!vs  held, 
ickinao,  as  a 
nglish.  The 
trengtli.    No 

des  Piiants ; 

would  join 

Jni-'ish  side. 
t.  At  noon 
us  the   pris- 

encountered 
er.  To  averl 
,  was  thrown 
dons  of  some 


As  wc  Jipproachcd  tli'i  is^liiiid,  two  women  in  tlie  canoo  in  wliich  1 
was,  bt'i^an  I  >  uttor  mel;mcliuly  and  Iiiiioous  crios.  Precarious  as  my 
condition  still  ri'maincd,  I  cxperienci'd  sonns  Kcns'itions  of  alarm  from 
tlicst!  di-!n;il  sounds,  <if  wliicli  I.ould  not  ilvn  discover  tlu;  occasion. 
SubscujU'iMtly,  I  I'Mrnod  that  it  is  custom  ny  for  the  women,  on  piissinj; 
noiir  tiio  burial  places  of  rel;Uio:is,  n.  rw  to  omit  thii  practice  of  which 
I  was  now  a  witness,  and  by  whi(^h  thoj'-  intend  to  denote    tlioir  grief 

]<y  tli'j  approach  of  evenin;^-  wo  r','aehi;d  thn  island  in  safety,  and  thu 
women  were  not  Ion:;'  in  erecting  our  cabins.  In  th(!  morning,  there, 
was  a  mu-tiT  of  the  Indians,  at  which  there  were  found  three  hundred 
and  iifty   liL^lUing  men. 

In  the  cour.'^ti  of  the  day,  tlicr  arrived  a  canoe  from  Detroit,  wit'.i 
ambassadors,  who  endeavored  to  p.evail  on  the  Indians  to  repair  thither 
to  the  assistancj  of  Pontine;  but  fear  Wiis  now  the  previuiing  passion. 
A  guard  was  tept  during  the  day,  and  a  watch  by  !iight,  and  alarms 
were  very  fre(]U"utly  s]iread.  Had  an  enemy  appeared,  all  tlie  pris- 
oners would  liave  been  put  to  death  ;  and  I  suspected  that,  as  an 
Enolisjiniim,  [  should  share  their  fate. 

.Several  days  had  now  ;)as-:e;l,  when  one  morning  a  continued  alarm 
prevailed,  and  I  saw  the  Vndians  ruiming  in  a  confused  manner  toward 
the  beach.  In  a  sliort  lime  I  learned  that  two  largo  canoes  from 
Montreal  were  in  sight. 

All  the  Indian  canofs  were  immeiliat'dy  manned,  and  those  from 
Montreal  were  surrounded  and  seized,  as  they  turned  a  point  bcliind 
which  the  (lotilla  had  been  concealed.  The  foods  were  consi'med  to 
a  Mr.  Levy,  and  would  have  been  saved  if  the  canoe  men  had  called 
them  French  })r(spcrty ;    but  they  were  terriiiiul  and   disguised    nothing. 

In  the  canoes  was  a  large  proportion  of  ll([uor,  a  dangerous  aequi- 
sition,  and  which  threatened  disturbance  among  the  Indians,  even  to 
the  loss  of  their  dearest  friends.  Wawatam,  always  watchful  of  my 
safety,  no  sooner  heard  tlio  noise  of  drunkenness,  which  in  the  evening 
did  not  fill  to  begin,  than  he  represented  to  me  the  danger  of  remaining 
in  tin;  village,  and  owned  that  he.  C(nild  not  himself  resist  the  temptation 
of  joining  bis  comrades  in  the  debauch.  That  I  might  escape  all  mischief 
he  therefore  rcjuested  that  I  would  accompany  him  to  the  mountain, 
where  I  w.is  to  remain  hiddim  till  the  liquor  should  be  drank. 

We  ascenJed  the  mountain  .accordingly.  It  is  this  mountain  whicii 
constitutes  tliat  high  land  in  the  middle  of  the  island,  of  which  I  have 
spoken  before,  as  a  figure  considered  as  resembling  a  turtle,  and  therefore 
called  MiJiilimackinac.  It  is  thickly  covered  with  wood,  and  very 
rocky  toward  the  top.     After  walking  more  than  half  a  mile,  we  came 

28 


'!V-; 


434 


ALEXANDER   HENRT'S   OAFIiVITT. 


to  a  large  rock,  at  tlio  base  of  which  was  an  opening,  dark  within,  and 
appearinjjj  to  bo  the  entrance  of  a  cave. 

Here,  Wawatam  recommended  that  I  should  take  up  my  lodging,  and 
by  all  means  remain  till  he  returned. 

On  going  into  the  cave,  of  which  tin;  entrance  was  nearly  ton  feet 
wide,  I  found  the  further  end  to  be  rounded  in  its  shape,  like  that  of 
an  oven,  but  with  a  further  aperture,  too  small,  however,  to  be  explored. 

After  thus  lookinjr  around  me,  I  broke  small  brandies  from  the 
trees,  and  spread  them  for  a  bed;  then  wrapped  my.self  in  my  blanket 
and  slept  till  daybreak. 

On  awaking  I  felt  myself  incommoded  by  some  object  upon  whicn 
I  lay;  and  removing  it,  found  it  to  be  a  bone.  This  I  supposed  to  bo 
that  of  a  deer,  or  some  otlier  animal,  and  wliat  might  very  naturally 
be  looked  for  in  the  place  in  which  it  was;  but,  when  daylight  visited 
my  chamber,  I  discovered,  with  some  feelings  of  horror,  that  I  was 
lying  on  nothing  less  th-an  a  heap  of  human  bones  and  skulls,  which 
covered  all  the  floor! 

The  day  p;issed  wiliiout  the  retuiii  of  Wawatam,  and  without  food. 
As  niglit  approach(!d,  I  found  myself  luiable  to  meet  its  darkness  in 
the  charnel-house,  which,  nevertiicless,  I  had  viewed  free  from  uneasi- 
ness during  the  day.  1  choso,  therefore,  an  adjacent  bush  for  this  night's 
lodging,  and  slept  under  it  as  before ;  but  in  the  morning,  I  awoke  hun- 
gry and  dispirited,  and  almost  envying  the  dry  bones,  to  the  view  of 
which  I  returned.  At  length  the  sound  of  a  foot  reached  me,  and  my 
Indian  friend  appeared,  making  many  apologies  for  his  long  absence, 
the  cause  of  which  was  an  unfortunate  excess  in  the  enjoyment  of  his 
liquor. 

This  point  being  explained,  I  mentioned  the   extraordinary  sight  that 
had  presented  itself  in  the  cave  to  which  he  had  commended  my  slum 
bers.     He  liad   never  heard  of  its  existence   before;  and,  upon   exam- 
ining the   cave   togetlier,  we  saw   reason  to  believe  that  it  had  been 
anciently  filled  with    human   bodies. 

On  returning  to  the  lodge,  I  experienced  a  cordial  reception  from 
the  family,  wliich  con.^istcd  of  the  wife  of  my  friend,  his  two  snos,  of 
whom  the  eldest  was  married,  and  wiiose  wife,  and  a  daughter  of 
thirteen  y(!ars  of  age,  completed  the  list* 

Wawatam  related  to  tiie  other  Indians,  the  adventure  of  the  bones. 
All  of  them  expressed  surprise  at  hearing  it,  and  declared  that  they  had 
never  been  aware  of  the  contents  of  this  cave  before.  After  visiting  it, 
whicli  they  immediately  did,  almost  every  one  offered  a  difl'orent  opinion 
oa  to  its  history. 


ALEXANDER  HENRT'S   OAPTITITT. 


438 


Some  advanced,  that  at  a  perind  when  the  waters  overflowed  the 
liitul,  (an  event  whicli  makes  a  distinguished  figure  in  the  liistory  of  their 
world,)  the  inhabitants  of  this  island  had  fled  into  the  cave,  and  been 
tlicie  drowned ;  others,  that  those  same  inhabitants,  wlien  the  Hurons 
nia(l(!  war  upon  tlicm,  (as  tradition  says  tliey  did,)  hid  themselves  in 
t!u!  cave,  and  being  discovered,  wen^  there  massacred.  For  myself,  I 
jiin  disposed  to  b(!lievo  tliut  this  cave  was  an  ancient  receptacle  of  the 
bo'U's  of  prisoners,  sacrificed  and  devoured  at  war-f(!iistfi.  I  have  always 
o!)serv('d  that  the  Indians  pay  particular  attention  to  the  bones  of  sac- 
ritices,  preserving  th<!ni  unbroken,  and  depositing  them  in  some  place 
kept  exclusively  for  that  purpose. 

A  few  days  after  the  occurrence  of  the  incidents  recorded  above, 
Mcneh\v<'hna,  whom  I  now  found  to  be  the  great  chief  of  the  village 
of  Michilimackinac,  came  to  the  lodge  of  my  friend ;  and  when  the  usual 
ceremony  of  smokini.i;  wiis  finished,  he  observed  that  Indians  were  now 
daily  arrivitig  froni  Detroit,  some  of  whom  had  lost  relations  or  friends 
in  the  war,  and  who  would  certainly  retaliate  on  any  Englishman  they 
found ;  upon  which  account,  his  errand  was  to  advise  that  I  should  be 
dressed  like  an  Indian,  an  expediejit  whence  I  might  hope  to  escape  all 
future  insult. 

I  could  not  but  consent  to  the  proposal,  and  the  chief  was  so  kind 
as  to  a.ssist  my  friend  and  his  family  in  effecting  that  very  day  the 
desir(!d  metamorphosis.  My  hair  wa.s  cut  oft",  and  my  head  shaved, 
with  the  exception  of  a  spot  on  the  crown,  of  about  twice;  the  diameter  of 
a  crown-piece.  My  face  was  painted  with  three  or  four  different  colors; 
8om(!  parts  of  it  red,  and  others  black.  A  shirt  was  provided  for  me, 
p.unted  with  vermilion,  mixed  with  greiise.  A  large  collar  of  wampum 
was  put  round  my  neck,  and  another  suspended  on  my  breast  Both 
my  arms  were  decorated  with  larg(i  bands  of  silver  above  the  elbow, 
besides  several  smaller  ones  on  the  wrists ;  and  my  legs  were  covered 
with  nillasrs,  a  kind  of  hose,  made,  as  is  the  favorite  fashion,  of  scarlet 
cloth.  Over  all,  I  was  to  wear  a  scarlet  blanket  or  mantle,  and  on  my 
head  a  large  bunch  of  feathers.  I  i)arted,  not  without  some  regret, 
with  the  long  hair  which  was  natural  to  it,  and  which  I  fancied  to  be 
ornamental;  but  the  ladies  of  the  family,  and  of  the  village  in  genera), 
appeared  to  think  my  person  imjiroved,  and  now  condescended  to  call 
me  handsome,  even  among  Indians. 

Protocteti,  in  a  great  measure,  by  this  disguise,  I  felt  myself  more  at 
liberty  than  before ;  and  the  season  being  arrived  in  which  my  clerks 
from  the  interior  were  to  be  expected,  and  some  part  of  my  property, 
as  I  had  a  right  to  hope,  recovered,  I  begged  the  favor  of  Wawatam 


.iJli 


436 


ALEXANDER   IIENRY'S    CAPTIVITT. 


i 


that  he  vrould  enable  nic  to  pay  a  sliort  visit  to  Michiliinackiiiac.  lie 
did  not  fail  to  comply,  and  I  succeeded  in  findinir  mj'  clerks;  but,  either 
throu!j;h  tlio  disturbed  state  of  the  country,  as  llvy  rcprcsiMitcd  !•>  be 
the  case,  or  throui>'h  their  n'.isconduet,  as  !  bad  reason  to  think,  I  ob- 
tained nothini4-;  and  notliinL;',  or  almost  nothing,  I  now  bei;an  to  think 
vould  be  all  that  I  .should  need  durinjf  the  rest  of  niv  lif'.  To  ll::h 
and  to  liunt,  to  collert  a  few  skins,  and  exehann'e  them  for  necessaries, 
was  all  that  I  seemed  destined  to  do,  and  to  acquire,  for  the  future. 

I  returned  to  the  Indian  village,  where  at  this  time;  much  scarcity 
of  food  prevailed.  We  were  often  for  twenty-four  hours  williout  eating; 
and  when  in  the  morning  we  had  no  victuals  for  the  day  before  us,  the 
custom  was  to  black  our  faces  with  grease  and  charcoal,  and  exhil'it, 
through  resignation,  a  temper  as  cheerfid  as  if  in  the  midst  of  i)lenty. 

A  r(>pelitii)u  of  the  evil,  however,  soon  indiu-ed  us  to  leave  tin;  island  in 
search  of  food;  and  accordingly  we  de])arted  for  the  bav  of  Jlontehitaouy ; 
distant  eight  leagues,  and  where  Ave  found  plenty  of  wild  fowl  and  lish. 

While  in  the  bay,  my  guardian's  daughter-in-law  w-as  taken  in  labor 
of  her  first  child.  She  was  innnediately  remo\'ed  out  of  the  common 
l<xlg(i;  and  a  small  one,  for  her  separate  accommodation  was  begun 
and  iinished  by  thi;  women  in  less  than  half  an  hour. 

The  next  morning  we  lieard  that  she  was  very  ill,  and  the  family 
began  to  be  much  alarmed  on  her  account;  the  more  so,  no  doubt, 
because  cases  of  difficult  labor  are  very  rare;  among  Indian  women.  In 
this  distress,  Wuwatam  requested  me  to  accompany  him  into  the  woods; 
and  on  our  way  informed  me  that  if  he  could  find  a  snake,  he  should 
soon  secure  relief   to  his  daughter-in-law. 

On  reacliing  some  wet  ground,  we  ^p(!edily  obtained  the  object  of  our 
search,  in  a  small  snake,  of  the  kind  called  the  garter  snake.  Wawatam 
seized  it  by  the  n"ck,  and  holding  it  fast,  while  it  coiled  itself  round 
liis  arm,  he  cut  off  its  head,  catching  the  blood  in  a  cup  that  lie  had 
brought  with  him.  This  done,  ho  thrcAV  away  the  snake,  and  carried 
home  the  blood,  wliich  he  mixed  with  a  quantity  of  water.  Of  this 
mixture  lie  administered  first  one  table-.spoonful,  and  shortly  after  ji 
.second.  Within  an  hour  tlu;  patient  was  safely  delivered  of  a  fine  child; 
and  Wawatum  subsequently  declared  that  the  remedy,  to  which  he  had 
resorted,  was  one  that  never  failed. 

On  the  next  day,  we  left  the  bay  of  Boutchitaouy;  and  the  young 
mother,  in  high  spirits,  assisted  in  loading  the  canoe,  barefooted,  and 
knee-deep  in  the  water. 

The  medical  information,  the  diseases,  and  the  remedies  of  the  Indians, 
often  engaged  my  curiosity  during  the  period  throup'h  wMch   I  was 


«  ^  •    tf    I     J  I   *. I 


ALEXANDER   TIENRy's    CAPTn'IT7 


437 


(iliac.     lie  ■ 
but,  i'ilhi;r 
itctl   1')  bo 
hiiik,  1  <i'>- 
M  \o  tli'uik 
■.     Ti)  Mx 
necessaries,    , 
future, 
ell  searelty 
out  e:Uiiig-; 
ore  us,  the 
iiid  oxliil;it, 
t  of  plenty, 
lie'  island  in 
iiiteliilaouy; 
ivl  and  lisn. 
en  in  labor 
bo  oomniou 
Avas  begun 

the  family 
,  no  doubt, 
wnmuii.     In 

the  woods; 
be  sbould 

bioet  (if  our 
Wawatam 
Iself  round 
it  bo  bad 
uul  carried 
Of  tliis 
lly  after  a 
Inc  child; 
licb  he  bud 

tbe  young 
jfooted,  and 

tbe  Indians, 
blch  I  was 


familiar  witli  lbe«(!  iiiidn.is;   iiiul  I   -liall  like  ibis  occasion  to  introduce; 
a  few  parlienkiis  connected  with  their  histoiy. 

The  In'lians  ai'c  in  general  free  from  disorders;  and  an  instance,  of 
lii  ir  !iii:i'j'  subject  to  drojisy,  L^oiit,  or  stoiv,  never  caino  within  my 
kiiowi  ■f\.^^.  JiitlininiarMiis  of  tli",  lim^-s  are  ani'ni;^'  tht-ir  most  ordinary 
C'in>[)!:iiuls;  aail  ih<'umali^m  siill  mori-  so,  especially  wilb  tho  aged, 
'i'heir  nio(!i,'  of  iif-,  ia  which  they  arc  so  much  exposed  to  the  wei 
;i'i(l  c'lhl,  slrcpini;'  on  ill."  nr'Hind,  immI  iahaliii'jf  thc-jiiglit  air,  sulliciently 
arcoaiits  for  thi  ir  liabi  i'y  to  tlie:^i'  diseasrs.  The  remedi>'s  on  wlatli 
(lay  most  rely  are  envties, -calharlies,  and  llu-  lancet;  but  especially 
(he  J'lst.  ISIeediiig  is  so  fivnrit''  an  op^'ratioa  among  the  women  that 
they  ne\-er  lose  an  occasion  of  enjoying  it,  whetlier  sick  ur  well.  I  have 
Konietimes  bled  a  dozen  wumen  in  a  murniag  as  ihev  sat  in  a  row,  along 
a  fallen  tree,  beginning  with  thi;  tiist,  opening  the  \(in,  then  proceeding 
to  the  s(  eond,  aiui  sc  on,  having  three  or  four  individuals  bleeding  at 
the  .sami'   lime. 

In  most  villages,  and  partii-ulaily  in  tlios(!  of  tin.'  Chippcways,  tliis 
scr\ie(!  was  recpiired  of  iiu' ;  and  no  [lersuasleii  of  mine  could  ovei 
induce  wi  woman   to  dispense  with  it. 

.In  ali  pails  of  the  cnur.try,  and  among  all  the  nations  that  1  have  seen, 
j>a!'!icu!:ir  iaiUvi  luds  arrn^aL'  to  thrmselves  the  art  of  healing,  but 
priiiei;iaily  by  m'ans  of  jireli'iided  snrceiy;  and  operati(jns  of  this  sort 
are  always  paid  lor  by  a  present  made  before  they  are  begun.  Indeed, 
whatever,  as  an  iMipo.itor,  may  be  the  demerits  of  the  operator,  lii:5 
reward  may  genei  illy  be  said  to  be  fairly  earned  by  dint  of  corporcJ 
labor. 

I  was  onci'  iires'ait  at  a  peri'ormance  of  this  kind,  in  whie'Ii  tlie  patient 
was  a  female  child  of  about  twelve  years  of  age.  Several  of  the  elder 
chiefs  wt're  invited  to  the  scene;  and  tin"  same  compliment  was  paid 
to  myself,  on  account  of  the  medical  skill  for  wiiich  it  w;us  pleased  to 
give  me  credit. 

The  pbysieiaii  (so  to  call  him)  seated  himself  on  the  ground;  and 
before  him,  on  a  new  slmud  blanket,  was  placed  a  basin  of  water, 
in  wliieli  were  three  bones,  tbe  hirger  oars,  as  it  a[i[)eari'd  to  me,  of  a 
swan's  wing.  In  his  band  li'.i  li.i  I  his  s/uskiiji'o!,  or  rattle,  with  which 
he  beat  time  to  his  mcdkiiie  sniuj.  The  siek  cliilu  lay  on  a  blanket,  near 
the  phvsieian,  slu^  ajipeared  to  have  iiuudi  fi;ver,  and  a  severe  oj)prt'Sf ion . 
of  the  lungs,  breathing  with  ditliculty,  and  bctrajing  symptoms  of  the 
last  stage  of  consumption. 

Aftei-  i-iiiging  for  some  time,  the  physician  took  one  of  tb'"-  hones  out 
of  the  basin :  the  bone  was  hollow ;  and  one  end  being  applied  to  the 


\A 


I  ■, 


!llHi 


M 


An 


438 


AtSXANDIR  HKNRy'S   CAFTIVITT. 


breast  of  the  patient,  lie  put  the  other  into  his  mouth,  in  order  to 
remove  the  disorder  bv  suction.  Having  persevered  i.i  tliis  as  long  as 
he  thought  proper,  lie  suddenly  .seemi'd  to  force  the  bone  into  hia 
mouth,  and  swallow  it  He  now  acted  the  part  of  one  sulTciiiig  severe 
pain;  but,  presently,  finding  relief,  lie  made  a  long  sj)eccli,  and  after 
this  returned  to  singing,  and  to  the  accompaniment  of  his  rattle.  With 
the  hitter  during  his  song,  he  struck  his  head,  breivst,  sides,  and  buck, 
at  the  same  time  stwiiiiing,  as  if  to  vomit  forth  the  bone. 

Relinquishing  this  attempt,  he  applied  himself  to  suction  a  second 
time,  and  witii  the  second  of  thu  three  bones;  and  this  also  he  soon 
seemed  to  swallow. 

Upon  its  disappearance,  he  began  to  distort  liimself  in  the  most  fiight- 
ful  manner,  using  every  gesture  which  conld  convey  the  idea  of  pain ; 
at  length  he  succeeded,  or  pretended  to  succeed,  in  throwing  up  one 
of  the  bones.  Tills  was  handed  about  to  the  spectators,  and  strictly 
examined;  but  nothing  remarkable  could  be  discovered.  Upon  this, 
he  went  back  to  his  song  and  rattle ;  and  after  some  time  threw  up  the 
second  of  the  two  bones.  In  the  groove  of  this,  the  physician  upon 
examination,  found,  and  displayed  to  all  present,  a  small  white  substance, 
resembling  a  piece  of  the  quill  of  a  fe.alher.  It  was  passed  round  the 
company  from  one  to  the  other;  and  declared,  by  the  physician,  to 
be  the  thing  causing  the  disorder  of  his  patient 

The  multitude  believe  that  these  physicians,  whom  the  French  call 
jongleurs,  or  jugglers,  can  inflict  as  well  as  remove  disorders.  They 
believe  that  by  drawing  the  figure  of  any  person  in  sand  or  ashes, 
or  on  clay,  or  by  considering  any  object  as  the  figure  of  a  person,  and 
then  pricking  it  with  a  sharp  stick,  or  other  substance,  or  doing,  in  any 
other  manner,  that  which  done  to  a  living  body  would  cause  pain  or 
injury,  the  individual  represented,  or  supposed  to  be  represented,  will 
suffer  accordingly.  On  the  other  hand,  the  mischief  being  done,  another 
physician,  of  equal  pretensions,  can  by  suction  remove  it  Unfortunately 
however,  the  operations  which  I  have  described  were  not  successful  in 
the  instance  referred  to;  for,  on  the  day  after  they  had  taken  place, 
the  girl  died. 

With  regard  to  He.sh-wounds,  the  Indians  certainly  effect  astonishing 
cures.  Here,  as  above,  much  that  is  fantastic  occurs;  but  the  success 
of  their  practice  evinces  something  solid. 

At  the  Sault  de  Sainte-Marie  I  knew  a  man  who,  in  the  result  of  a 
quarrel,  received  the  stroke  of  an  axe  in  his  side.  The  blow  was  so 
violent,  and  the  axe  driven  so  deep,  that  the  wretch  who  heU  it  could 
not  withdraw  it,  but  left  it  in  the  wound,  aud  lied.    Shortly  after,  the 


ALEXANDER  HENRY's   CAPTIVITV. 


m 


,  in  order  to 
liis  as  long  as 
bone  into  ijis 
ilToniig  auvcrn 
ccb,  iind  aftfir 
nittle.  AViih 
Ics,  and  back, 

tion  a  second 
1  also  he  soon 

lie  most  fiiglit- 
idea  of  piiin; 
rowing  up  one 
rs,  and  strictly 
L  Upon  tliis, 
!  threw  \\p  the 
physician  upon 
liilc  substance, 
3sed  round  the 
B  pliysician,  to 

he  French  call 
sorders.  They 
sand  or  aslios, 

a  person,  and 
r  doing,  in  any 

cause  pain  or 
epresented,  will 
g  done,  another 

Unfortunately^ 
)t  successful  in 
id  taken  place, 

Feet  astonishing 
but  the  success 

the  result  of  a 
ho  blow  was  so 
10  heU  it  could 
hortly  after,  the 


man  was  found,  and  brought  into  the  fort,  wliero  siveral  other  Indlnni 
came  to  his  assistance.  Among  these,  one,  wlio  w.w  a  physician  ink- 
mediately  withdrew,  in  order  to  fetch  Ijis  jHiiei/umn,  or  medicine  bag, 
with  which  he  soon  returned.  The  eyes  of  ih(!  sullercr  were  fixed, 
Lis  teeth  closed,  and  liis  case  apparently  dcsjx'nilc. 

The  physician  took  from  liis  bag  a  small  j)ortiuri  of  a  very  white 
Kubsttuice,  resembling  that  of  a  bone;  this  lie  scraped  into  a  little  water, 
and  forcing  open  the  jaws  of  the  patient  with  a  stick,  he  poured  the 
rai,vture  down  his  throat  What  foilowtfd  was,  that  in  a  very  short 
space  of  time  the  wound((l  man  moved  his  lycs:  and  beginning  to  vomits 
threw  up  a  small  lump  of  clotted  blood. 

The  physiciim  now,  and  not  before,  examined  the  wound,  from  which 
I  could  see  the  breath  escape,  and  from  which  a  part  of  the  omentum 
depended.  This  the  physician  did  not  set  about  to  restore  to  its  place, 
but,  cutting  it  away,  minced  it  into  small  pieces,  and  made  his  patient 
swallow  it 

The  man  was  then  carried  to  his  lodge,  whore  I.  visited  him  daily.  By 
the  sixth  day  he  was  able  to  walk  about;  and  within  a  month  he  grew 
quite  well,  except  that  he  wius  troubled  with  a  cough.  Twenty  years 
after  his  misfortune  he  was  still  alive. 

Another  man,  being  on  his  wintering-ground,  and  from  home,  hunt- 
ing beaver,  was  crossing  a  lake,  covered  with  sm(x)th  iw,  with  two 
beavers  on  his  back,  when  his  foot  slipped,  and  he  fell.  At  his  side, 
in  his  belt,  was  his  axe,  the  blade  of  which  came  upon  the  joint  of 
his  \vi-ist;  and,  the  weight  of  his  body  coming  upon  the  blade,  his 
hand  was  completely  separated  from  his  arm,  with  the  exception  of  a 
small  piece  of  the  skin.  He  had  to  walk  three  miles  to  his  lodge,  which 
was  thus  far  away.  The  skin,  which  alone  retiiined  his  hand  to  his 
arm,  he  cut  through,  with  tlie  same  axe  which  had  done  the  rest;  and 
fortunately  having  on  a  shirt,  he  took  it  off,  toie  it  up,  and  made  a 
strong  ligature  above  the  wrist,  so  as  in  some  measure  to  avoid  the  loss 
of  blood.  On  reaching  his  lodge,  he  cured  the  wound  himself,  by  the 
mere  use  of  simples.     I  was  a  witness  to  its  perfect  healing. 

I  have  said  that  these  physicians,  jugglers,  or  practitioners  of  pre- 
tended sorcery,  arc  supposed  to  be  capable  of  inflicting  diseases;  and 
1  may  add,  that  they  arc  sometimes  themselves  sufferers  on  this 
account  In  one  instance  I  saw  one  of  them  killed,  by  a  man  who 
charged  him  with  having  brought  his  brother  to  death  by  malefic  arts. 
The  accuser,  in  his  rage,  thrust  his  knife  into  the  belly  of  the  accused, 
and  ripped  it  open.    The  latter  caught  his  bowels  in  his  arms,  and  thus 


i    ' 


440 


ILEXAMOEK   IIENRT'U   OAPTIVITr. 


walked  toward  his  loJ.;;o,  gallKuing  thorn  up,  from  tinv!  to  timr),  m  they 
escaped  his  hold.  IlLs  lodge  wim  iit  no  cuii»i(Ji:iublo  di.stiincc,  luul  ho 
reached  it  ulivo,  and  died  in  it.. 

Our  next  cncanipmont  was  on  the  island  of  Siiiiit-iJurtin,  off  Cupc 
Hjiitit-Ignacc,  so  fullcd  fnmi  tlu;  Josuit  mission  of  Saint  jniwitius  t<>  tlie 
Ilurons,  formerly  cstablislicd  tin  ir.  Our  object  vaw  to  li.sh  fm'  stui-cdii, 
which  wn  did  with  griiit  hucccss;  and  here,  in  thu  injuyuu  nt  of  a 
plentiful  and  cxct'llent  supply  of  food,  we  remained  uulil  tlie  twentieth 
day  of  August  At  this  time,  the  autumn  bein.^'  ,  i  liund,  and  a  sure 
prospect  of  iucreaiied  sicurity  fidni  hostile  Indians  ulluiJcd,  Wawalam 
proposed  going  to  liis  intended  wintering-ground.  Tlii!  removal  was  a 
subject  of  the  greatest  joy  to  niyself,  on  account  of  tlie  freijuent  insults, 
to  which  I  had  still  to  submit,  from  the  Indians  of  our  band  or  village, 
and  to  escape  from  which  I  would  freely  have  gone  ahuDst  anywlu're. 
At  our  wintering-ground  wo  were  to  be  alone;  lor  tlio  Indian  families, 
in  the  countries  of  which  I  write,  separate  in  the  winter  season,  for  the 
convenience  as  well  of  subsistence  as  of  the  chase,  and  re-assueiate  iu 
the  spring  luid  summer. 

In  preparation,  our  lirst  business  was  to  sail  for  Michilimaekinac,  where 
being  arrived,  we  procured  from  a  Cunadiiui  trader,  on  credit,  ^'inic  tri- 
fling articles,  togethiT  Avilh  animuiiilion,  and  two  bushels  uf  maize.  This 
done,  we  steered  directly  fur  lake  Michigan.  At  L'Arbre  Crochc  we 
stopped  one  day  on  a  visit  to  the  Ottawa.s,  whi-re  all  the  people,  and 
particularly  Okinochumaki,  the  chief,  the  s;inie  who  took  nie  fiimi  the 
Chippewayu,  behaved  with  great  ci\ility  and  kindness.  The  chief  pre- 
sented me  with  a  ba:,  of  maize.  It  is  the  Ottawas,  it  will  be  remem- 
bered, who  raise  this  grain  for  the  market  of  Michilinnekinac. 

Leaving  L'Arbre  Croche,  we  procieded  direct  to  tlie  mouth  of  the 
river  Aux  Sables,  on  the  south  side  of  the  lake,  and  distant  about  a 
hundred  and  llfty  miles  from  fiirt  Michilimaekinac.  On  our  voyage  we 
passed  several  deep  bays  and  rivers,  and  I  found  the  banks  of  the  lake 
to  con.sist  in  mere  sand.s,  without  any  appearance  of  verdure;  ihe  sand 
drifting  from  one  hill  to  another,  like  snow  in  Avinter.  Iler.cc,  all  the 
rivers,  which  here  entei<d  the  lake,  arc 'as  much  entitled  to  the  epithet 
of  sandy  as  that  to  which  we  were  bound.  They  are  also  distinguished 
by  another  particulariiy,  always  observabk;  in  siiiiil,;r  situations.  The 
current  of  the  stream  being  met,  when  the  wind  is  contrary,  by  the 
waves  of  the  lake,  it  is  driven  back,  and  the  sands  of  the  shore  are  at 
the  same  time  washed  into  its  mouth.  In  consequence,  the  river  i ;  able 
to  force  a  passage  into  the  lake,  broad  only  in  proptjrtion  to  its  utmost 


ALEXANDER   DBNRV'a    CAFTIVITT. 


441 


Bfrongtlr,  •\vhilo  it  Iiollows  {or  ilKolf,  boliiiul  tlm  snnd-banlis,  n  bnsin  of 
one,  two,  or  tlir 'o  iiiilcs  acrosH.  la  tin  sc-  livcis  \V(!  kiiltd  many  wild- 
I'owl  and  hfuvcr. 

To  kill  bt  a\(i-,  we  Mscd  to  go  several  miles  up  tiic  rivers,  bofori;  tlio 
npiiMacli  of  iiii^iit,  and  al'tir  tliu  dusk  came  on  sud'tr  the  caiioe  to  drift 
^ti.tiy  down  the  current,  without  ruisc.  The  beavor  in  ti\is  part  of 
ihc  ovoning  come  abro:id  to  proturi;  food,  or  mulerials  for  repairing  their 
habitations;  and  as  tlu'}'  are  not  alarmed  by  tlu  iiuc,  they  often  piLss 
it.  within  gun-«liot. 

While  we  thus  hunted  alonf;'  our  Avay,  I  enjoyed  a  ])Crsonal  freedom 
cf  wliich  1  iiud  \AA'n  long  dcjirieed,  and  became  as  expert  ill  tho 
Indian  pursuits  as  ilie  Indians  tiiemselve.^. 

On  entering  tlio  river  Aux  Sables,  Wawatiim  took  a  dog,  tied  its  feet 
together,  and  thiew  it  into  the  stream,  uttering,  at  the  same  time,  a  long 
prayer,  whicii  he  addrt  s.-ed  to  the  Unat  kSpiiit,  bupplicating  his  bless- 
ing on  the  chase,  and  his  aiil  in  the  hUj)port  of  the  family,  through  the 
danmrs  of  a  lon^'  winter.  Our  ludt-e  was  lifteen  miles  above  the  mouth 
of  the  >lream.  'llic  priiieijial  animals  which  the,  country  allorded  were 
the  bl;;g  or  lid  ilecr,  the  common  Aiueiican  deer,  the  bear,  raccoon, 
beaver  and  marti  n. 

The  beavei'  feeds  in  preference  on  young  wood  of  the  birch,  aspen, 
and  poplar  tree,  (^/lo^jtilus  tuijra  called  by  the  Canadians  Hard,)  but  in 
deln  I  of  the^e  on  any  other  tiee,  tlicise  of  the  pine  and  lir  kinds  ex- 
cepted. These  latter  it  employs  only  for  building  its  dams  and  housea 
In  wide  meadows,  where  no  wood  is  lu  be  found,  it  resorts,  for  all  its 
jmrposes,  to  the  roots  of  the  rush  and  water  lilly.  It  consumes  great 
(piiintities  of  food,  whetlu'r  of  roots  or  wood;  and  hence  often  reduces 
itself  to  the  necessity  of  removing  iiito  ti  new  quarter.  Its  house  hiis  an 
arched  dome-like  roof,  of  an  exlipticid  iigure,  and  rises  from  three  to  four 
fei.'t  above  the  surface  of  the  water.  Ic  is  always  entirely  surrounded 
by  Avater;  but,  in  the  banks  adjacent,  the  animal  pi-ovides  holes  or 
wa.i/(e/<,  of  wiiicli  the  entrance  is  below  the  surface,  and  to  which  it 
retreats  on  the  lirst  alarm. 

Tho  femide  beaver  usually  produces  two  young  at  a  tinio,  but  not 
unfroquenlly  more.  During  tlio  lirst  year  the  young  remain  with  their 
parents,  in  the  st  cuud  they  OL'cupy  an  adjoining  apartment,  and  assist 
in  bnilding,  and  in  procuring  food.  At  two  jears  old,  they  part,  and 
build  houses  of  their  own;  but  often  rove  about  for  a  considerable  time, 
before  they  fix  upon  a  spot  There  are  beavers,  cidled  by  the  Indians 
old  lacIaloi-K,  who  live  by  themselves,  build  no  houses,  and  work  at  no 
dams,  but  shelter  themselves  in  holes.     Tlie  usual  method  of  taking 


"1XW~ 


442 


At.KXANDKR    nENHY  8   CAPTIVITV. 


tljL'j^o  is  hy  traps,  formed  of  iron,  or  logs,  nrul  biiitrd  with  hniiichcs 
of  pupliir. 

Ac(Nii  liii'4  ti)  IIk'  Indiiins,  tlu;  beaver  is  miieli  'j;iveii  to  jealousy.  If  a 
straiiL;!'  Ill  ill'  !i|)j)nMi!li('s  llie  ciibiii,  ii  batllc  irnmodiat.'ly  eiisucs.  Of  this 
the  liiiiiii!  rcniiiiiis  an  unconcerned  spectator,  careUss  to  which  party 
thi-  law  of  (;on{iuest  may  assign  lier.  Among  tlic  beaver  wiiicli  wo 
Killed,  those  who  were  witli  me  pretended  to  show  demonstrations  of 
this  I'.u'i ;  some  ul'  the  skins  of  tin;  males,  and  almost  all  of  the  older 
ones,  healing  mar!vs  of  violence,  while  none  were  ev(!r  to  be  Hccn  on 
tliu  skins  of  the  fenialcH.  The  Indians  add,  that  the  male  is  us  constant 
as  he  is  jealous,  never  attaching  himself  to  more  than  one  female;  while 
the  ('(III  lie,  on  h'jr  f-i  le,  is  always  fond  of  strangers. 

The  most  common  way  of  taking  the  beaver  is  that  of  breaking  up 
its  house,  which  is  done  with  trenching  tofils,  during  the  winter,  when 
the  ice  is  slnjiig  enough  to  allow  of  approaching  them;  and  when,  also, 
th(;  fur  is  in  it8  most  valuable  state. 

Breaking  up  the  house,  however,  is  only  a  preparatory  step.  During 
this  operation,  the  family  make  their  escape  to  one  or  more  of  their 
wus/ics.  These  are  t(j  be  discovered  by  striking  the  iee  along  the  bank, 
and  where  the  holes  are,  a  iiollow  sound  is  returned.  After  discovering 
and  seaiching  many  of  the.so  in  vain,  we  often  found  the  whole  family 
together  in  the  aiimv.  Wiush.  I  was  taught  occa.sionally  to  distinguish  n 
full  wash  from  an  empty  one,  by  the  motion  of  the  water  above  its 
entrance,  occasioned  by  the  breathing  of  the  animals  concealed  in  it. 
I'rom  the  washes  they  must  be  taken  out  witli  the  hands;  and  in  doing 
this,  the  hunter  sometimes  receives  severe  wounds  from  their  teeth. 
While  a  hunter,  I  thought,  with  the  Indians,  that  the  beaver  flesh  was 
very  go(jd;  but  after  that  of  the  ox  was  again  within  my  reach,  I  could 
not  relish  it.     The  tail  is  accounted  a  luxurious  morsel. 

Beavers,  say  the  Indians,  were  formerly  a  people  endowed  with  speech, 
not  less  than  with  the  other  noble  faculties  they  possess;  but  the  Great 
iSpirit  hiis  taken  this  away  from  them,  lest  they  should  grow  superior 
in  understanding  to  mankind. 

The  raccoon  was  another  object  of  our  chase.  It  wiis  ray  practice  to 
go  out  in  the  evening,  with  dogs,  accompanied  by  the  youngest  son 
of  my  guardian,  to  hunt  this  animal.  The  raccoon  never  leaves  its 
hiding  place  till  after  sunset. 

As  soon  as  a  dog  falls  on  a  fresh  track  of  the  raccoon,  he  gives  notice 
by  a  cry,  and  immediately  pursues.  His  barking  enables  the  hunter 
to  follow.  The  raccoon,  which  travels  slowly,  and  is  soon  overtaken, 
makes  for  a  tree,  on  which  he  remains  till  shot 


illi   brunches 

ilousy.     If  a 

ucs.     Of  lliis 

wluch  piirly 

cr  wli'uli  WB 

(tistnitiona  of 

of   llio  older 

l)u   s<'cn  on 

is  lus  constant 

fcmiile;  while 

breaking  up 

winter,  when 

lid  when,  also, 

step.  During 
more  of  their 
lon^;  the  bank, 
ter  discovering 
!  wliolu  family 
distinguish  a 
ater  above  its 
oncealcd  in  it. 
;  and  in  doing 
m  their  teeth, 
leaver  flesh  was 
'  reach,  I  could 

3d  with  speech, 

but  the  Great 

i  grow  superior 

my  practice  to 
i  youngest  son 
icver  leaves  its 

he  gives  notice 
lies  the  hunter 
soon  overtaken, 


ALEXANDKH   HKHRT's   OAPTIVITT. 


ACter  the  fulling  of  the  snow,  notliitig  more  is  necessary,  for  tnking 
the  rarciM)ii,  than  to  follow  the  trick  of  his  feet  In  thi'<  season,  he 
seldom  li'.ivcu  his  hiihiiation;  and  he  iievor  lays  up  any  food.  I  liavo 
found  MX  at  a  time,  in  the  hollow  of  one  trei-,  lyiiin;  upon  eadi  otiicr, 
anil  nearly  in  a  torpid  state.  In  more  than  one  iiiht;iii<i',  I  liavo  ascer- 
tained thai  tliey  have  lived  six  weeks  without  focjd.  The  mouse  is  their 
principal  jirey. 

Kaceo;)n  hunting  was  my  more  particular  and  daily  emjiloy.  I  usually 
went  out  at  the  first  dawn  of  day,  and  seldom  returned  till  sunset,  or 
till  I  had  laden  myself  with  as  many  animals  as  I  could  eariy.  Hy 
degrees  I  became  familiarized  with  this  kind  of  life;  and  liad  it  not 
been  for  the  ideii,  of  wliieh  I  could  not  divest  my  mind,  that  I  was 
living  among  savages,  and  for  the  whispers  of  a  lingering  hope,  that  I 
sliould  one  day  be  released  from  it — or  if  I  could  have  forgotten  that 
I  had  ever  been  otherwise  than  as  I  then  was  —  I  could  have  enjoyed 
as  much  happiness  in  this  as  in  any  other  situation. 

One  evening,  on  my  return  from  hunting,  I  found  tlio  fire  put  out, 
and  the  opening  in  the  top  of  the  lodges  covered  over  with  skins;  by 
thus  means  excluding,  as  much  as  possible,  e.xti'rnal  light.  1  further 
observed  that  the  a.she9  were  removed  from  the  fire-jilaee,  and  that 
dry  sand  was  spread  where  they  had  been.  Soon  after,  a  lire  was 
made  withoutside  the  cabin,  in  the  open  air,  and  a  kettle  hung  over 
it  to  boil. 

I  now  supposed  that  a  feast  was  in  preparation.  I  supposed  so  only, 
for  it  would  have  been  indecorous  to  inciuire  into  the  meaning  of  what 
I  saw.  No  person,  among  the  Indians  themselves,  would  use  'this 
freedom.  Good  breeding  requires  that  the  spectator  should  patiently 
wait  the  result 

As  soon  as  the  darkness  of  night  had  arrived,  the  family,  including 
myself,  were  invited  into  the  lodge,  I  was  now  requested  not  to  speak, 
as  a  feast  was  about  to  be  given  to  the  dead,  whose  spirits  delight  i^ 
uninterrupted  silence. 

As  we  entered,  each  was  presented  with  his  wooden  dish  and  spoon, 
after  receiving  wliich  we  seated  ourselves.  The  door  was  next  shut, 
and  we  remained  in  perfect  darkness. 

The  master  of  the  family  was  master  of  the  feast.  Still  in  tlic  dark, 
he  asked  every  one,  by  turn,  for  his  dish,  and  put  into  each  two  boiled 
cars  of  maize.  The  whole  being  served,  he  began  to  speak.  In  his 
discourse,  which  Listed  half  an  hour,  he  called  upon  tlie  manes  of  liis 
deceased  relations  and  friends,  beseeching  them  to  be  present,  to  assist 
him  in  the  chase,  and  to  partake  of  the  food  wliich  he  had  prepared 


11 


§ 


m 


ALEXANDER  HENRT'S   CAPTIVITY. 


for  them.  When  lie  had  ended,  we  proceeded  to  eat  our  maize,  which 
wo  did  witliout  other  noise  than  what  was  occiisiuiied  hy  our  teeth. 
The  maize  was  not  half  boiled,  and  it  tooli  me  an  hour  to  consume  my 
s'.iarc.  I  was  requested  not  to  break  tlie  spikes,  [cob,]  as  this  would  be 
displeasing  to  the  departed  spijils  of  their  friends. 

When  all  \.as  eaten,  Wauatain  made  another  speecii,  with  wliieli  the 
ceremony  ended.  A  new  lire  was  kindled,  with  fresh  spark.-i,  from  tlint 
iind  steel;  and  the  pipes  being  smoked,  the  spikes  were  carefully  buried, 
ill  a  hole  nrule  in  the  ground  for  that  purpose,  within  t!ie  lodge.  This 
done,  the  wh'ilo  family  began  a  dance,  Wawatam  singing,  and  beating 
n  drum.  The  dance  continued  the  greater  part  of  the  night,  to  the 
great  phsasure  of  the  lodge.  The  night  of  the  feast  w;is  that  of  the 
lir.-it  day  l    November. 

On  tlie  twentieth  of  December,  we  took  an  account  of  the  produce 
of  our  Imu*.  and  found  that  we  had  a  liundred  beaviu-  skins,  as  many 
raccoons,  and  a  large  quantity  of  dried  ve!iis(Mi ;  all  which  was  secured 
from  the  Avolves,  by  being  placed  npoa  a  scalfild. 

A  hunting  excursion,  into  the  interior  of  the  country,  was  rcsohcd 
on;  and  early  ne.vt  morning  the  bundles  were  made  up  by  the  women 
fir  each  person  to  carry.  I  remarked  that  the  bundle  ;Ava\  to  mo  was 
the  lightest,  and  those  carried  by  the  women  the  largest  and  heaviest 
of  tlie  whole. 

On  the  ;irst  day  of  our  march,  we  advanced  about  twenty  miles,  and 
then  encamped.  Eciiig  sonnnvhat  fatigued,  I  could  not  hunt;  but  Wa- 
watam killed  a  stag,  not  hv  from  our  encampment.  The  next  morning 
we*  moved  our  lodge  to  the  carcass.  At  this  station  W(!  reniiiined  two 
days,  employed  in  drying  the  meat.  The  m(!thod  was,  to  cut  it  into 
slices,  of  the  thickness  of  a  steak,  and  then  hang  it  over  the  fire  in 
tlie  smok<!.  On  the  third  day  we  removed,  and  marched  till  two  o'clock 
in  the  afternoon. 

While  the  women  were  busy  in  erecting  and  preparing  the  lodges, 
I  took  my  gun  and  strolled  away,  telling  Wawatam  that  I  intended  to 
look  out  f jr  some  fresh  meat  for  supper,  lie  answered  that  he  would 
do  the  same;  and  on  this  we  both  left  tlie  encampment,  in  different 
directions. 

Th.e  sun  being  visible,  I  entertained  no  fear  of  losing  my  way;  but 
in  fiilloning  several  tracks  of  animals,  in  momentary  expectation  of 
falling  in  with  the  game,  I  proceeded  to  a  considerable  distance,  and 
it  was  not  till  near  sunset  that  I  thought  of  returning.  The  .sky,  too, 
ha  1  become  overcast,  and  I  was  therefore  left  without  the  sun  for  my 
guide.     In  this  situation,  I  walked  as  fast  as  I  could,  always  supposing 


■*?'-.■ 


ALEXANDER  HENRT'S   CAPTIVITT. 


44S 


myself  to  he  approricliiiig  our  encampment,  till  at  length  it  became  so 
dark  tJKit  I  ran  a.;  anst  the  trees. 

I  l)L-camj  convinced  tliat  I  was  lost;  and  I  was  alarmed  by  the 
reflection  that  I  was  in  a  country  entirely  strang-e  to  me,  and  in  dangier 
from  str.r.igo  Indians.  With  the  flint  of  my  gun  I  rnnde  a  lire,  and 
tlien  laid  me  down  to  sleep.  In  the  niglit,  it  rained  liard.  I  awoke  cold 
and  wt.'t;  and  as  soon  as  light  appeared,  I  recummenced  my  journey, 
sometimes  walking;  and  sometimes  runniii"',  unknowimv  where  to  ao, 
bewildered,  and  like  a  madman. 

Toward  evening,  I  reaciied  the  border  of  a  large  lake,  of  which  I 
could  scarcely  discern  the  opposite  shore.  I  had  never  heard  of  a  lake 
in  tliis  part  of  the  country,  and  therefore  felt  myself  removed  further 
than  evi'r  from  th;-  object  of  my  pursuit.  To  trend  back  my  steps 
^  appeared  to  be  the  most  likely  means  of  di'liv(n-ing  myself;    and  I  ac- 

cordingly determi.ied  to  turn  my  face  directly  from  the  lake,  and  keep 
this  direcliou  iis  nearly  as  I  could. 

A  heavy  snow  began  to  descend,  and  night  soon  afterward  came 
on.  On  this  I  stoppi^d  and  made  a  fire;  and  stripjjing  a  tree  of  its 
sheet  of  bark,  liiy  down  under  it  to  .shelter  me  from  the  snow.  All 
night,  at  sniitlj  distaneis,  the  wolves  howhid  aroiuid,  and  to  me  seemed 
to  be  ac(iuiiinted  with  my  misfortune. 

Amid  thoughts  the  most  distracted,  I  was  able  at  length  to  fall  asleep; 
but  it  was  not  long  before  I  awoke,  refreshed,  ar.d  wondering  at  the 
terror  to  which  I  had  yielded  myself.  That  I  could  really  have  wanted 
the  means  of  recovering  my  way,  appeared  to  me  almost  incredible,  and 
the  recollection  of  it  like  a  dream,  or  as  a  circum-i  nice  which  must 
have  proceeded  (v  jm  the  loss  of  my  senses.  Had  tii!;:^  not  Inippened,  I 
could  never,  as  I  n(jw  thovight,  have  suffered  so  long,  withmit  calling  to 
mind  the  lessons  which  1  had  received  from  my  Indian  friend,  for  the 
very  purpose  of  being  iisefid  to  me  in  difticulties  of  this  kind.  These 
were,  that,  generally  speaking,  the  tops  of  pine  trees  lean  toward  the 
rising  of  the  sun;  that  moss  grows  toward  the  roots  of  trees  on  the  side 
which  faces  the  north ;  and  that  the  limbs  of  tree's  are  most  numerous, 
and  laroest  on  that  which  ftices  the  south. 

Determined  to  direct  my  feet  by  these  marks,  and  persuaded  tliat  I 
should  thus,  sooner  or  later,  reach  lake  Micliigan,  which  I  reckoned  to 
ho  di.4;mt  about  -ixty  miles,  I  began  my  march  at  break  cf  day.  I  had 
not  taken,  nor  wished  to  take,  any  nourishment  since  I  left  the  encamp- 
ment; I  had  with  me  my  gun  and  ammunition,  and  was  therefore 
under  no  anxiety  in  regard  to  food.  The  snow  lay  about  half  a  foot 
in  depth. 


'^W-^r 


446 


JlISZAMOER  henry's   CAPTtVITT. 


My  eyes  were  now  employed  upon  the  trees.  When  their  top* 
leaned  different  ways,  I  looked  to  the  moss,  or  to  the  branches;  and 
by  connecting  one  with  another,  I  found  the  means  of  traveling  with 
some  deirree  of  confidence.  At  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  the  sun, 
to  my  inexpressible  joy,  broke  from  the  clouds,  and  I  had  now  no 
further  need  of  examining  the  trees. 

In  going  down  the  side  of  a  lofty  hill,  I  saw  a  herd  of  red  deer 
approaching.  Desirous  of  killing  one  of  them  for  food,  I  hid  myself  in 
the  bushes,  and  on  a  largo  one  coming  n(?ar,  presented  my  piece, 
which  missed  fire,  on  account  of  the  priming  having  been  wetted. 
The  anim.als  walked  along,  without  taking  the  least  .ilarm;  and, 
having  reloaded  my  gun,  I  followed  them,  and  presented  a  second 
time.  But  now  a  disaster  of  the  heaviest  kind  had  befallen  me;  for, 
on  attempting  to  fire,  I  found  that  I  had  lost  the  cock.  I  had  pre- 
viously lost  the  screw  by  which  it  was  fistcned  to  the  lock;  and  to 
prevent  this  from  being  lost  also,  I  had  tied  it  in  its  place,  with  a 
leather  string.  The  lock,  to  prevent  its  catching  in  the  boughs,  I  had 
carried  under  my   molton  coat. 

Of  all  tlie  sufferings  which  I  had  experienced,  this  seemed  to  me 
the  most  severe.  I  was  hi  a  strange  country,  and  knew  not  how  far 
I  had  to  go.  I  had  been  three  days  without  food;  I  was  withou 
the  means  of  procuring  myself  either  food  or  fire.  Despair  had  almost 
OTcrpowered  me;  but  I  soon  resigned  myself  into  the  hands  of  that 
Providence,  whose  arm  had  so  often  saved  me,  and  returned  on  my 
track,  in  search  of  what  I  had  lost.  My  search  was  in  vain,  and  I 
resumed  ray  course,  wet,  cold,  and  hungry,  and  almost  without  clothing. 

The  sun  was  setting  fast,  when  I  descended  a  hill,  at  the  bottom 
of  which  was  a  small  lake,  entirely  frozen  over.  On  drawing  near,  I 
saw  a  beaver  lodge  in  the  middle,  offering  some  faint  prospect  of  food ; 
but  I  found  it  already  broken  up.  While  I  IcHjked  at  it,  it  suddenly 
occurred  to  me  that  I  had  seen  it  before;  and  turning  my  eyes  round 
the  place,  I  discovered  a  small  tree  which  I  had  myself  cut  down, 
in  the  autumn,  when,  in  comjjany  with  my  friends,  I  had  tixken  the 
beaver.  I  was  no  longer  at  a  loss,  but  knew  both  the  distance  and 
the  route  to  the  encampment.  The  latter  was  only  to  follow  the 
course  cf  a  small  stream  of  water,  which  ran  from  the  encampment 
to  the  lake  on  which  I  stood.  An  hour  before,  I  had  thought  myself 
the  most  miserable  of  men;  and  now  I  leaped  for  joy,  and  called 
myself  the  happiest. 

The  whole  of  the  night,  and  through  all  the  succeeding  day,  I 
walked  up  the  rivulet,  and  at  sunset  reached  the  encampment,  where 


ALEXANDER  HEKRT'S   CAFTIVITT. 


447 


I  was  received  with  the  warmest  expressions  of  pleasure  by  the  family, 
by  whom  T  liad  been  given  up  for  lost,  after  a  long  and  Viiin  search 
for  rae  in  the  Avoods. 

Some  days  elapsed,  dimn;jf  which  I  rested  myself,  and  recruited 
my  strength ;  after  this,  I  resumed  tlie  chase,  secure  that,  as  the  snow 
had  now  fallen,  I     could  always  return  by  the  way  I  went 

In  the  course  of  the  month  of  January,  I  hapjjened  to  observe  that, 
the  trunk  of  a  largo  pine  tree  was  much  torn  by  the  claws  of  a  bear, 
made  both  in  going  up  and  down.  On  further  examination,  I  saw 
that  there  was  a  large  opening  in  the  upper  part,  near  which  the' 
smaller  branches  were  broken.  From  these  marks,  and  from  the 
additional  circumstance  that  there  were  no  tracks  on  the  snow,  there 
was  reason  to  believe  that  a  bear  lay  concealed  in  the  tree. 

On  returning  to  thj  lodge,  I  communicated  my  discovery;  and  it 
was  agreed  that  all  the  family  sIkjuM  go  together  in  tiie  morning,  to 
assist  in  cutting  down  the  tree,  the  girth  of  whicli  was  not  less  than 
three  fathoms.  The  women  at  firnt  opposed  the  undertaking,  because 
our  axes,  being  only  of  a  pound  and  a  half  weight,  were  not  well 
adapted  to  so  heavy  a  labor;  but  the  hope  of  finding  a  large  bear, 
and  obtaining  from  its  fat  a  great  quantity  of  oil,  an  article  ft  the 
time  much  wanted,  at  length  prevailed. 

Accordingly,  in  the  morning,  we  surrounded  the  tree,  both  men  and 
women,  as  many  at  a  ume  iis  could  convenientlv  work  at  it;  and  here 
we  toiled  like  beavers  till  the  sim  went  down.  71,  i:;  day's  work  carried 
us  about  half  way  through  the  trunii  •  nnd  iiio  next  morning  we 
renewed  the  attack,  continuing  it  until  about  tv.  o  1/ clock  in  the  after- 
noon, when  the  tree  fell  to  the  ground.  For  a  ''ew  minutes,  every  thing 
remained  quiet,  and  I  feared  that  all  our  '-nectations  were  «';;;ippointcd; 
but  as  I  advanced  to  the  opening,  there  canio;  out,  to  the  -^reat  satisfaction 
of  oJl  our  party,  a  bear  of  extraordinary  size-,  which,  befor.*  ?he  had 
proceeded  many  yards,  I  shot. 

The  bear  being  dead,  all  my  assistants  approached,  and  ail:  but  more 
particularly  my  old  mother,  (as  I  was  wont  t<i  call  her,)  Look  her  head 
in  lier  hands,  stroking  and  kissing  it  several  times ;  begging  a  thousimd 
pardons  for  taking  away  her  life  ;  calling  her  their  relation  and  grand- 
mother; and  requesting  her  not  to  lay  the  fault  upon  them,  smcc  it  was 
truly  an  Englishman  that  had  put  her  to  death. 

This  ceremony  was  not  of  long  duration  ;  and  if  it  was  I  th.it  killed 
their  grandmother,  they  were  not  themselves  behindhand  in  what  remained 
to  be  performed.  The  skin  being  taken  off,  we  found  the  fat  in  sevenJ 
places  six  laches  deep.    This  being  divided  ioto  two  ports,  loaded  two 


'    -J^^Tf","    ^    «*i 


448 


ALEXANDEH   HENHY'S    OAPTrVITV. 


persons;  and  tlio  tlcsli  p:irfs  wore  !\s  much  as  t'mr  ji -rs  >ns  could  cany 
In  all,  liio  carcass  must  ]ia*-o  exceeded  live  luindrcd  \vri>;iit. 

As  s'lon  as  wu  rmcIh' I  Ukj  lod^.,!',  lliu  be  ir';;  ii  ad  was  adorned  wiUi 
all  tlu'  trinki'ts  i:i  ihi;  piss  's:;i  in  of  the  I'un'.ly,  siicii  as  .'-ilvx'r  arm  liraids 
and  Avi'ist  hands,  and  bi'lls  of  wampum,  and  liiyu  1  ,ij  up  )U  a  scidi'old, 
set  up  fur  its  rcci'pliun,  wiihui  tlio  l.jdge.  Near  tlie  ao.-'t!  wdn  placed  a 
larji'f!  (piaiuity  of  tu'oaceo. 

Till-  next  muriiiiiL;'  no  sooner  appeared  than  jir.jiara'.ious  W'.'ro  made 
for  a  feast  to  tlie  manes.  The  1  jtl^e  was  cleaned  aiid  swi.'pt;  and  the 
lioad  of  ttie'  liear  lii'i'd  up,  and  a  new  slroud  hiankrt,  which  had  never 
boon  used  before,  spread  under  it.  Thu  jiipes  \s\'W  now  lit;  and  Wawa- 
tam  blew  tobacco  snviko  iato  the  nostrils  of  the,  boar,  telling-  me  to  do 
the  same,  and  thus  appeas;'  the  anger  of  the  bear,  on  aecdunt  of  my 
havhig  killed  her.  1  endea\iired  to  p;-rsuadvt  m_,-  bv..efictor  and  frii'iidly 
adviser  that  she  U)  Ioniser  had  any  life,  and  as-iuvl  him  that  I  was 
under.no  apj)rehension  from  her  displea.sure  ;  but  i!i.'  tirst  proposition 
obtained  no  crevlit.  and  the  second  gave  but  liltle  sa;is;'action. 

At  lenglli,  the.  feast  being  rt'ady,  Wawalam  (Mnjiuaiccd  a  speech, 
resembling  in  many  tliin^^s  his  address  to  the  man' .--  n['  iiisitdalions  and 
dep.irted  companions;  but  having  this  peculiarity,  ihat  iu>  liere  deplored 
the  necessity  imdrr  which  men  laoored  thus  to  destroy  their  fricuJs 
Ho  represcntid,  however,  that  tiic  inisfurtmie  w-, .  anavoitlable,  since 
without  doing  so  they  could  by  no  means  subsist.  The  speech  ended, 
we  all  ate  heartily  of  the  bear's  flesh;  and  even  t!u  iiead  itself,  after 
remaining  three  days  on  the  Kcafl'old,  was  put  into  the  Uettle. 

It  is  only  the  female  bear  that  makes  her  wint<'r  lodging  in  the  upper 
parts  of  trees,  a  |)rHc.lice  by  which  llu'  ytnu'g  are  eeiueil  from  the 
attacks  of  wolves  and  oilier  animals.  She  braigs  lurth  in  tht;  v.dnier 
season;  and  renuiias  in  her  lodge'  till  the  cubs  have  gained  vmie  .streii'>tli. 

The  male  always  lodges  in  the  ground,  under  the  ruols  o€  U'e.-».  He 
takes  to  this  hahilalinn  a.s  soon  as  (he  snow  fails,  and  remams  tiieru  until 
it  lias  disappearetl.  The  Indians  remark  that  the  bear  comes  out  in  the 
spring  with  the  same  fat  Avhi-di  he  carried  in  in  the  autumn,  but  after 
exercise  of  only  a  few  days  becomes  lean.  Excepting  for  a  short  part 
of  the  season,  tiie  male  lives  consiantly  alone. 

The  fat  of  our  bear  was  melted  down,  and  th.e  o\\  fi'led  si.v  porcupine 
skins.  A  part  of  tl.e  meat  was  cut  into  Htri[w  and  fire-dried,  after  which 
it  was  put  into  the  vess'-is  containing  the  oil,  where  it  j'cuuii.*ed  in  perfect 
preservation  imtil  the  middle  of  summer. 

February,  in  the  country  and  by  the  people  wliero  and  among  whom 
I  was,  is  called  the  Moon  of  Hard  or  Crusted  iSnow ;  for  now  the  snow 


ALEXANDER   HENUT'S   CAPTIVITY. 


449 


can  bear  a  man,  or  at  least  dogs,  in  pursuit  of  animals  ot  the  cliase.  At 
this  season,  the  stag  is  very  successfully  hunted,  his  feet  breaking  through 
at  every  step,  and  tlu  crust  upon  the  snow  cutting  his  legs  witli  its  sharp 
edges  to  tlie  very  bone.  He  is  consequently,  in  this  distress,  an  easy 
prey ;  and  it  frequently  happened  that  we  killed  twelve  in  the  short  spaco 
of  two  hours.  By  this  means  we  were  oion  put  into  possession  of  four 
thousand  weight  of  dried  venison,  which  was  to  bo  carried  on  our  back^?, 
along  with  all  the  rest  of  our  wealth,  for  .<eventy  miles,  the  distiince  of 
our  encumpment  from  that  part  of  the  lake  shore  at  which  in  the  autumn 
we  left  our  canoes.     This  journey  it  was  our  next  business  to  perform. 

Our  venison  and  furs  and  peltries  were  to  be  disposed  of  at  Michili- 
mackinac,  and  it  was  now  the  season  for  carrying  them  to  market  The 
v.'omen,  therefore,  prepared  our  loads  ;  and  the  morning  of  departuro 
being  corao,  we  set  off  at  daybreak,  and  continued  our  march  till  two 
o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  Where  we  stopped,  we  erected  a  scaffold,  on 
which  we  deposited  the  bundles  we  had  brought,  and  returned  to  our 
encampment,  which  we  reached  in  the  evening.  It  the  morning,  avo 
carried  fresh  loads,  which  being  deposited  with  the  rest,  we  returned  a 
second  time  in  the  evening.  This  we  repeated  till  all  .vas  forwarded 
one  stage.  Then,  removing  our  lodge  to  the  place  of  deposit,  wo 
carried  our  goods,  with  the  same  patient  toil,  a  second  stage ;  and  so 
on,  till  we  were  at  no  great  distance  from  tha  shores  of  the  lake. 

Arrived  here,  we. turned  our  atti  ntion  to  ^ugar  making,  the  manage- 
ment of  which,  as  I  have  before  related,  belongs  to  the  women,  the 
men  cutting  wood  for  the  fires,  and  hunting  and  fishing.  In  the  midst 
of  this,  we  were  joined  by  several  lodges  of  Indians,  most  of  whom 
V  .-e  of  the  family  to  which  I  belonged,  and  had  wintered  near  us. 
The  lands  belonged  to  this  family,  and  it  had,  therefore,  the  exclusive 
right  to  lumt  on  them.  This  is  according  to  the  custom  of  the  people ;  for 
each  family  has  its  own  lands.     I  was  treated  very  civilly  by  all  the  lodges. 

Our  society  had  been  a  short  time  enlarged  by  this  arrival  of  our 
friends,  when  an  accident  occurred  which  filled  the  whole  village  with 
anxiety  and  sorrow.  A  Uttle  child,  belonging  to  one  of  our  neighbors, 
fell  into  a  kettle  of  boiling  syrup.  It  was  instantly  snatched  out,  but 
•with  little  hope  of  its   recovery. 

So  long,  however,  as  it  lived,  a  continual  feast  was  observed  ;   and 

this  was  made  to  the  Great  Spirit  and  Master  of  Life,  that  he  might  be 

pleaded  to  save  and  lieal  the  child.      At  this  feast  I  waa  a  constant 

guest;  and  often  found  difficulty  in  eating  the  large  quantity  of  foocl 

which,  on  such  occasions  as  these,  is  put  upon  each  man's  dish.    The 

Indians  accustom  themselves  both  to  eat  much  and  to  fast  much  with  facility.. 

29 


II 


I  li 


*  I 


ii  ,'\ 


m\ 


460 


ALXZAHSKR  HKNBT'S   OAFTIVITT. 


Several  Bacrifices  •were  also  offered ;  among  which  were  dogs,  killed 
and  hang  upon  the  tops  of  poles,  with  the  addition  of  stroud  bluiikits 
and  other  articles.  These  also  were  given  to  the.  Great  Spirit,  in 
hurnblo  hope  thiit  he  would  give  efficacy  to  the  medicines  cmployc^d. 

The  child  died.  To  preserve  the  l)o(ly  from  the  wolves,  it  was  pluncd 
upon  ft  scaffold,  where  it  rer.iiiiiied  till  we  went  to  tiio  lak(',  on  the 
border  of  which  was  the  burial  ground  of  the  family. 

On  our  arrival  there,  which  happened  in  the  beginning  of  April,  T  did 
not  fail  to  attend  the  funeral.  The  grave  was  made  of  a  lar,^c  sizi", 
and  the  whole  of  the  inside  lined  with  birch  baik.  Oa  the  bark  was 
laid  the  body  of  the  child,  accompanied  v.iui  an  axe,  a  p.iir  of  snow 
shoes,  a  small  kettle,  several  pairs  of  common  shoes,  iU'  oivn  Htri;i;,  ^  .)f 
beads,  and  because  it  was  a  girl,  a  carrying  belt  and  a  paddii,'.  Tive  kelilc 
was  filled  with  meat. 

All  this  was  again  covered  with  bark;  and  -it  about  two  f-et  nearer 
the  surface,  logs  were  laid  across,  and  Mies<!  again  covered  with  bark,  no 
that  the  earth  might  by  no  means  f  ;11  upun  the  corpse. 

The  last  act  before  the  burial  performed  by  the  mother,  crying  over 
the  dead  body  of  her  child,  wa.s  ths't  of  talung  from  it  a  lock  of  Inir 
for  a  mcmoriil.  While  she  did  this  I  endeavored  to  console  her,  by 
offering  the  usual  arguments :  that  the  child  was  happy  in  being  released 
from  the  miseries  of  this  prebcnt  hfe,  and  that  she  should  forbear  to 
grieve,  because  it  would  be  restored  to  her  in  another  world,  happy  and 
everlasting.  She  answered  that  she  knew  it,  and  that  by  thb  lock  of 
hair  she  should  discover  her  daughter,  for  she  would  take  it  with  her 
In  this  she  alluded  to  the  day  when  some  pious  hand  would  place  in  her 
own  grave,  along  with  the  carrying  belt  and  paddle,  this  little  relic, 
hallowed  by  maternal  tears. 

I  have  frequently  inquired  into  the  ideas  and  opinions  of  the  Indians 
in  regard  to  futurity,  and  always  found  that  they  were  somewhat  dif- 
ferent in  di*V"^nt  ;  .  'ividuals. 

Some  8upp:«c  their  souls  lo  remain  in  this  world,  although  invisible 
to  human  oytK;  and  capable,  themselves,  of  seeing  and  hearing  their 
friends,  and  aiso  of  assisting  them,  in  moments  of  distress  and  danger. 
Others  dismiss  from  the  mortal  scene  the  unembodicd  spirit,  and  send 
it  to  a  distant  world  or  country,  in  which  it  receives  reward  or  punish- 
ment, according  to  the  life  which  it  has  led  in  its  prior  state.  Those 
who  have  lived  virtuously,  are  transported  into  a  place  abounding  with 
every  hixury,  with  deer  and  all  other  animals  of  the  woods  and  water,  and 
where  the  earth  produces,  in  their  greatest  perfection,  all  its  sweetest 
Cniit&    VnulOi  OB  the  other  hand,  those  who  have  violated  or  neglected 


AliEXANDEK     UENRy'S    CAPTIVITT. 


451 


inrh  invisible 


the  duties  of  this  life,  arc  removed  to  ca  barren  soil,  where  they  wander 
U[)  and  down,  among  rocks  and  morasses,  and  are  stung  by  gnats  as 
larne  as  pigeons. 

While  we  remained  on  the  border  of  the  lake,  a  watch  Wiis  kept  every 
ni^'lit,  in  thi-  apprehension  of  a  speedy  attack  from  the  English,  who 
wen;  expected  to  avenoe  ilie  massacre  of  Michilimackinac.  Tiie  imme- 
diate gi(;inu!s  of  tills  apprehension  were  the  constant  dreams,  to  this 
effect,  of  tlie  more  aged  women.  I  endeavored  to  persuade  th(;in  that 
notliiiiy  uf  the  kind  would  take  place ;  but  their  fears  were  not  to  be 
subdued. 

Amid  these  alarms,  tlx-re  came  a  report  concerning  a  real,  though  less 
formidabit;  enemy  discovered  in  our  neighborhood.  This  wius  a  panther, 
whicli  one  of  our  young  mm  had  set^n,  and  which  animal  somcitimes 
attacks  and  carries  away  the  Indian  children.  Our  camp  was  immedi- 
ately on  tlie  alert,  and  we  set  off  into  the  woods,  about  twenty  in  num- 
ber. We  had  not  proceinled  more  than  a  mile  before  the  dogs  found 
the  panther,  and  pursued  him  to  a  tree,  on  which  he  was  shot,  lie  was 
of  a  large  size. 

On  the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  we  embarked  for  .Michilimackinac.  At 
La  Grande  Traverse  we  met  a  large  party  of  Indians,  who  appeared  to 
labor,  ]ik(!  ourselves,  under  (jonsiderable  alarm;  and  who  dared  proceed 
no  further,  lest  they  sh(juld  be  destroyed  by  tlie  P^nglish.  Frequent 
councils  of  the  united  bands  were  held ;  and  interro<>ations  were  contin- 
ually  put  to  myself  ;is  to  whetlier  or  not  I  knew  of  any  design  to  attack 
them.  1  found  that  they  believed  it  possible  for  me  to  liave  a  fore- 
knowledge of  events,  and  to  be  informed  by  dreams  of  all  things  doing 
at  a  distance. 

Protestations  of  my  ignorance  were  received  with  but  little  sati^ifaction, 
and  incurred  the  suspicion  of  a  design  to  conceal  my  knowledge.  On 
this  account,  tluM-efore,  or  hi  (  ause  I  saw  them  tornn^nted  with  fears  which 
had  nothing  but  imagination  to  rest  upon,  I  told  tiiem,  at  length,  that  I 
knew  there  was  no  enemy  to  insult  them ;  and  that  they  might  proceed 
to  Michilimackinac  without  danger  fn>m  the  English.  I  further,  and 
with  more  confidence,  declared,  thiit  if  ever  ray  countrymen  returned  to 
Micliilimackinae  I  would  recommend  them  to  their  favor,  on  account  of 
the  good  treatment  wlii<h  I  had  received  from  them.  Thus  encouraged, 
they  embarked  at  an  early  hour  the  next  morning.  In  crossing  the  bay 
we  experienced  a  storm  of  thunder  and  lightning. 

Our  port  was  the  village  of  L'Arbre  Croche,  which  we  reached  ia 
safety,  and  where  we  stiiid  till  the  following  day.  At  this  village  we 
found  several  persons  who  had  been  lately  at  Michilinackinac,  and  froiB 


ill 


4S2 


ALEXANDER   HENRT'S   CAPTIVITV. 


them  we  bad  the  satisfaction  of  learning  that  all  was  quiet  there.     The 
remainder  of  our  voyage  was  therefore  performed  witli  confidence. 

In  the  evening  of  tlio  twenty-seventh  we  hiiulod  at  the  fort,  which  now 
contained  ordy  two  French  traders.  The  Indians  who  had  arrived  before 
us  were  very  few  in  number;  and  by  all,  who  were  of  our  party,  I  was 
used  very  kindly.     1  had  the  entire  freedom  both  of  the  fort  and  camp. 

Wawatam  and  myself  settled  our  stock,  and  paid  our  debts;  and  this 
done,  I  found  that  my  share  of  what  was  loft  consisted  in  a  hundred 
beaver  skins,  sixty  raccoon  skins,  and  six  otter,  of  the  total  value  of  about 
one  hundred  and  sixty  dollars.  With  these  earnings  of  my  winter's  toil 
I  proposed  to  purchase  clothes,  of  which  I  was  much  in  neeu,  having 
been  six  months  witliout  a  shirt;  but,  on  incjuiriiig  into  the  prices  of 
goods,  1  found  that  all  my  means  would  not  go  far.  1  was  able,  however, 
to  buy  two  shirts,  at  ten  pounds  of  beaver  each;  a  pair  of  lc(/i/ins,  or 
pantaloons,  of  scarlet  cloth,  which,  with  the  ribbon  to  garning  them  fask- 
ionahhj,  cost  me  fifteen  pounds  of  beaver;  a  blanket,  at  twenty  [)ound8 
of  beaver;  and  some  other  articles,  at  propDrtionabli;  rates.'  In  this 
manner  my  wealth  was  «oon  reduced ;  but  not  before  1  had  laid  in  a  good 
stock  of  ammunition  and  tobacco.  To  the  use  of  the  latter  1  had  become 
much  attached  during  the  winter.  It  was  my  principal  recreation  after 
returning  from  the  chiistj;  for  my  companions  in  the  lodge  were  imaccus- 
tomed  to  pa-ss  the  time  in  conversation.  Among  the  Indians  the  topics  of 
conversation  are  but  few,  and  limited,  for  the  most  part,  to  the  trans- 
actions of  the  day,  the  number  of  animals  which  they  have  killed,  and  of 
those  which  have  escaped  tlieir  pursuit,  and  other  incidents  of  the  chase. 
Indeed,  the  causes  of  taciturnity  among  the  Indians  may  be  eajsily  under- 
stood, if  we  consider  how  many  occasions  of  speech,  which  present  them- 
selves to  us,  are  utt(!rly  unknown  to  them;  the  records  of  history,  the 
pursuits  of  science,  the  disquisitions  of  philosophy,  the  systems  of  p(jlitic3, 
the  business  and  the  amusements  of  the  day,  and  the  transacUons  of  the 
four  corners  of  the  world. 

Eight  days  had  passed  in  tranquillity,  when  there  arrived  a  band  of 
Indians  from  the  bay  of  Saguenaum.  They  had  Jissisted  at  the  siege  of 
Detroit,  and  came  to  muslrr  as  many  recruits  for  that  service  sis  they 
could.  Foi  my  own  part,  1  was  soon  informed  that,  as  I  was  the  only 
Englishm  in  in  the  place,  they  proposed  to  kill  me,  in  tv^xier  to  give  their 
friends  a  mess  of  English  broth  to  raise  their  courage. 

This  intelligence  was  not  of  the  most  agreeable  kind  ;  and  in  conse- 
quence of  receiving  it,  I  requested  my  friend  to  carry  me  to  the  Sault  do 
Saint-Marie,  at  which  place  I  knew  the  Indians  to  be  peaceably  inclined, 
and  that  M.  Cadotte  enjoyed  a  powerful  influence  ovei  tlieir  conduct 


ALEXANDER   HENRY's   OAPTIVITr. 


458 


lere.    The 

icc. 

which  now 
vod  before 
iity,  I  was 
and  camp. 
s;  and  this 
a  hundred 
10  of  about 
anter's  toil 
CL'O,  having 
3   prices  of 
Ic,  however, 
'  Icgijins,  or 
them  fash- 
jiity  pounds 
J.  •    In   this 
id  in  a  good 
had  become 
•cation  after 
jrc  unaccus- 
he  topics  of 
0  the  trans- 
illed,  and  of 
)f  the  chase, 
iiisily  under- 
"osent  thera- 
history,  the 
IS  of  politics, 
clions  of  the 

il  a  band  of 

the  siege  of 

vice  as  they 

^vas  the  only 

to  give  their 

ind  in  consc- 

the  Sault  do 

ably  inclined, 

Jieir  conduct 


Thpy  considered  M.  Cadottc  as  their  chief ;  and  he  was  not  only  my 
friend,  but  a  friend  to  the  Eiiglisli.  It  was  by  him  that  the  Chippeways 
of  Lake  Superior  were  prevented  fmm  joining  Pontile. 

Waw.itain  was  not  slow  to  extrt  liiniself  for  my  pri;servation,  but,  leav- 
ing Micliiliniackinac  in  the  nigiit,  transported  himscilf  and  all  his  lodge  to 
Point  Siiint-Ignaee,  on  tlie  opposite  s'de  of  the  strait.  ILtc  we  remained 
till  daylight,  and  then  went  into  tlie  Bay  of  Ijuutchiliiouy,  in  whicij  wo 
spent  tlirei;  days  in  tisliing  and  hunting,  and  wii(!re  we  found  })lenty  of 
wild  fowl.  L.iaving  the  ba)',  we  made  for  tiie  Isle  aux  Outardes,  where 
Tve  were  obliged  to  put  in,  on  account  of  tlie  wind  coming  ahead.  We 
proposed  sailing  for  the  Sault  the  next  morning. 

But  \vli(;n  the  morning  cam",  Wawatam's  wife  complained  that  slie  was 
sick,  ad.iing  that  sli"  hal  liad  bad  dreams,  and  knew  that  if  we  went  t) 
tlic  Rault  wo  should  all  be  destroyiMl.  To  have  argued,  at  this  time, 
against  the  iiirillibility  of  dreams,  would  have  been  extremely  unadvisable, 
eince  I  should  have  appi'ared  to  be  guilty,  not  only  of  an  odious  want  of 
faitli,  but  also  of  a  still  more  o;lious  want  of  s'nsibility  to  the  p()ssible 
calamities  of  a  family  which  had  done  so  much  for  the  alleviation  of  mine. 
I  was  silent,  but  the  disappointment  seemed  to  seal  my  fate.  No  pros- 
pect opened  ti  con.sule  me.  Tiie  return  to  Michilimackinac  could  only 
insun;  my  destraction  ;  and  to  remain  at  the  island  was  t)  brave  almost 
equal  danger,  .^ince  it  lay  in  the  direct  route  between  the  fort  and  th« 
Missisaki,  along  which  the  Indians  from  Detroit  were  houily  expected  to 
pa.ss,  on  the  business  of  their  mission.  I  doubted  not  but,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  solitary  situation  of  the  family,  they  would  carry  into  execution 
their  design  of  killing:  me. 

Unable,  therefore,  to  take  any  part  in  the  direction  of  our  course,  but 
a  pre}',  at  the  same  time,  to  the  most  anxious  thoughts  as  to  my  own  con- 
dition, I  passed  all  the  day  on  the  highest  part  to  which  I  could  climb,  of 
a  tall  tree,  from  whencj  the  lake,  on  both  sides  of  the  island,  lay  open  to 
my  view.  Here  I  might  hope  to  learn,  at  the  earliest  possible,  the 
approach  of  canoes,  and  by  this  means  be  warned  in  time  to  conceal 
myself. 

On  the  second  morning  I  returned,  as  soon  as  it  was  light,  to  my 
•watch  tower,  on  which  I  iuid  not  been  long  befons  I  discovered  a  sail 
comintr  from  Michilimackinac. 

The  sail  was  a  white  one,  and  much  larger  than  those  usually  era- 
ployed  by  the  northern  Indians.  I  therefore  indulged  a  hope  that  it 
might  be  a  Canadian  canoe,  on  the  voyage  to  Montreal ;  and  that  I  might 
be  able  to  prevail  upon  the  crew  to  take  me  with  them,  and  thus  release 
me  from  all  my  troubles. 


454 


AI.F,XAKDKIl    HENIIV  S    CAPTIVITY. 


My  hopes  conlimti'd  to  t,'iiiii  },'r()un(l  ;  fur  I  soon  poi'niaded  myself 
that  tlui  inaiincr  in  wliich  tlu^  puddles  were  used  mi  ijotird  thu  ciincx!  wns 
C'iin;i(liaii,  and  not  Indian.  My  spirits  win-  clattHl  ;  but  disappoinlini'ut 
l)ad  beconio  so  usual  willi  im-,  tiiat  1  could  nut  suil'or  niyoclf  to  lotjk  to 
the  event,  with  uny  strength  ol'  coniideiice. 

Knouyh,  liowuver,  appeari'd  at  lenoili  to  denionstrai.  itself  to  indiiec 
nic  to  descend  llie  tree,  and  repair  to  the  hnlj;o,  wiiii  my  tidiii?;s  and 
schemes  of  hberty.  Tiie  family  edi.nratulated  me  on  the  apimiaeh  of  so 
fair  an  opportunil y  of  eseape  ;  and  my  father  and  brother,  (lur  he  was 
nlteiirilely  each  of  these)  lit  his  pipe,  and  presented  it  to  me,  saying, 
"My  son,  tliis  may  be  the  last  time  that  ever  you  and  I  shall  smoke  out 
of  the  same  pipe  !  1  am  sorry  to  part  with  you.  Y(ju  know  the  all'ielion 
which  I  have  always  borne  you,  and  tlu;  dangers  to  wliich  1  hive  exposed 
myself  and  family,  to  ['.reserve  you  from  your  enemies  ;  and  1  am  h.ijjpy 
to  find  that  my  elti'.rts  jiromise  not  to  ha\e  been  in  vain."  At  this  time 
a  boy  came  into  the  lodge,  informing  lis  that  tin;  canoe  had  come  from 
Michilimackinae,  and  was  bouiui  to  the  Suult  do  Saint-Maiie.  It  wjis 
manned  by  thre*!  Canadians,  and  w.i^  carrying  home  Madame  Cadotte, 
the  wife  of  M.  Cadotte,  already  mentioned. 

My  hop;  i  of  going  to  Montreal  being  now  dissipated,  I  resolved  on 
(ice,(jmpa.;?ing  Madame  Cadotte,  with  her  })ermis.'^ioii,  to  the  S.iult.  On 
commanieadng  my  wishes  to  Madame  Cadotte,  she  cheerfully  acceded  to 
them.  Madame  Cadotte,  as  I  liave  already  m  'utioned,  was  an  Indian 
woman  of  the  Chippeway  nation,  and  bha  was  veiy  genendly  re- 
spected. 

My  departure  fixed  upon,  I  returned  to  the  lodge,  wlicre  I  packed  up 
my  wardrobe,  consisting  of  my  two  shirts,  pair  of  Icfjfjins,  and  blanket. 
Besides  these,  I  took  a  gun  and  ammiuiition,  presenting  wlitit  remained 
further,  to  my  host.  I  also  returned  the  silver  arm  bands  with  which  the 
family  had  decorated  me  the  year  before. 

We  now  exchangi'd  fiiie\v(.'lls  with  an  emotion  cntirc^ly  I'cciprocal.  I 
did  not  quit  the  lo  Ige  widiout  the  mo.-t  grateful  sense  uf  the  many  acts 
of  goodness  which  I  hai  experienced  in  it,  r.or  without  the  sincerest 
respect  for  the  virtues  which  I  had  witnessed  among  its  members.  All 
the  family  accompanied  me  to  the  beach  ;  and  the  canoe  had  no  sooner 
put  off  thiin  Wawatam  commenced  an  addre.-.s  to  the  Kiclii  Manito,  bc- 
Rceching  him  to  take  care  of  me,  his  brother,  till  we  should  next  meet. 
This,  he  had  told  me,  would  not  be  long,  us  he  intended  to  return  to 
Michilimackinae  for  a  short  time  only,  and  wtmld  then  follow  me  to  the 
Sault,  Wo  had  proceeded  to  too  great  a  distance  to  allow  of  our  bearing 
Lis  voice,  before  Wawatam  had  ceased  to  ofibr  up  his  prayers. 


▲LBZANDER   HENRY'i   CAPTIVITT. 


4S8 


jciriiindcd  myself 

II'. 1  tl\<'  I'.'inoii  was 

Lit  (lisuppoiiiiiui'iit 

iiiyoclf  to  look  to 

ils(.'lf  to  iiulucc 
h  my  tiilings  ami 
ii;  a|)|ii'Oiich  of  so 
tliiT,  (I'm-  he  was 

it  to  inc,  siiyin^;, 

I  sliiiU  smoku  out 
know  tlie  ntloction 

li  i  Ivivo  I'xposud 
;  ami  I  am  huppy 
II."  At  tliis  time 
lu  liiul  come  from 
.int-Marie.     It  was 

Madame  CaJotte, 

ted,  I  resolved  on 
to  tlie  Sault.  On 
'erfully  acceded  to 
,'d,  was  an  Indian 
■ery   genendly   re- 

ivhei'c  I  packed  up 
/[I'liia,  and  blanket, 
ing  what  remained 
nds  with  which  the 

iiv^ly  reciprocal.  I 
e  of  the  many  acts 
■hout  the  sincerest 
its  members.  All 
moe  had  no  sooner 
!  Kichi  Mauito,  bc- 
should  next  meet, 
ended  to  return  to 
II  follow  mc  to  the 
!low  (jf  our  hearing 
iraycrs. 


Boinrf  now  no  longer  in  the  society  (jf  tlie  Indians,  I  put  asido  tho 
dress,  putiiiig  on  tliat  of  a  Canadian  :  a  mnltun,  or  blanket  co;it,  over  my 
uliirt,  and  a  handkerchief  about  my  heud,  huts  being  very  little  worn  in 
tliiti  country. 

At  (laybieak,  on  the  second  morning  of  our  voyage,  we  embarked,  and 
presently  perceived  several  canors  Iiciiiiid  us,  As  lliey  aj)pro;iclied,  v/o 
ascertained  them  to  be  the  licet,  bound  fur  the  Missisaki,  of  which  I  had 
been  so  long  in  dread.     It  amounted  to  twenty  sail. 

On  coming  up  with  u.s,  and  surroundin-  our  canoe,  and  amid  general 
inquiries  conceining  the  news,  ;ia  Indian  "ngcd  nu      n- an  En'rlish- 

mun,  and  his  companions  supporlial  him  b  ing  that  I  looked  very 

like  OIK!  ;  but  I  atfected  not  to  understiuul  any  of  the  (pu^stions  which 
they  asked  me,  and  Madame  (-adutt(i  assured  tluni  that  I  wiw  ii  Uu 
nadiaii,  whom  she  had  brought  on   his  liist  voyage  from  Montreal. 

The  following  day  saw  us  safely  landed  lit  the  8ault,  where  I  experi- 
enced a  generous  welcome  from  M.  Cadotte.  Tli'Te  Avrre  thirty  warriors 
at  this  place,  restrained  from  joining  in  the  war  only  Ijy  \{.  Ciidotte'a 
induence. 

Here,  fir  five  days,  I  was  once  mia'c  in  possession  of  trancpiillity  ;  but, 
on  the  si.xtli,  a  young  Indian  came  into  M.  Cadotti''s,  saying  that  a  canoe 
full  of  warriors  had  just  arrived  from  Michiliinackinac  ;  that  they  had 
inquired  fir  me  ;  and  that  he  belie vi'd  their  intentions  to  be  bad.  Nearly 
at  the  same  time,  a  messau'e  came  from  the  ocwd  chief  of  the  villiii'e, 
desiring  me  to  conceal  myself  until  he  should  discover  the  views  and 
temper  of  the  strangers. 

A  garret  was  the  second  time  my  jjlace  of  refuge  ;  and  it  was  not  long 
before  the  Indians  came  to  M.  Cadotte's.  My  frieiul  immediately  in- 
formed Mutehikiwish,  their  chief,  who  was  related  to  his  wife,  of  the 
design  imput'd  to  them,  of  mischief  against  my.self  Mutehikiwish  fr.ankly 
acknowledged  that  they  had  had  such  a  design  ;  but  added  that,  if  dis- 
plciising  to  M.  Cadotte,  it  should  be  abandoned.  He  then  further  stated, 
that  thidr  errand  was  to  raise  a  party  of  warriors  to  return  with  them  to 
Detroit  ;  and  that  it  had  been  their  intention  to  take  me  with  them. 

In  regard  to  the  principal  of  the  two  objects  thus  disclosed,  M.  Cadotto 
proceeded  to  assemble  all  the  chiefs  and  warriors  of  the  village  ;  and 
these,  after  deliberating  for  some  time  among  themselves,  sent  for  the 
strangers,  to  whom  both  M.  Cadotte  and  the  chief  of  the  village  addressed 
a  speech.  In  these  speeches,  after  recurring  to  the  designs  confessed  to 
have  been  entertained  against  mvself,  who  was  now  declared  to  bo  under 
the  protection  of  all  the  chiefs,  by  whom  any  insult  I  might  sustain  would 
be  avenged,  the  ambassadors  were  peremptorily  told  that  they  might  go 


IMAGE  EVALUATION 
TEST  TARGET  (MT-a) 


1.0 


I.I 


11.25 


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lit 

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14.0 


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1.6 


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Sdences 

Corporation 


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23  WIST  MAIN  STRUT 

WUSTH.N.Y.  14S80 

(716)  872-4903 


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4«8 


AlXXAKDKR  HBNRT'S   OAPTIVTrT. 


back  ns  tbcy  came,  none  of  tbe  young  men  of  this  villago  being  foolish 
enough  to  join  them. 

A  moment  after,  a  report  was  brought  that  a  canoe  had  just  arrived 
from  Niagara.  As  this  was  a  place  from  which  every  one  was  anxious  to 
hear  news,  a  message  wiis  sent  to  these  fresh  strangers,  requesting  them 
to  come  to  the  council. 

The  strangers  came  accordingly,  and  being  seated,  a  long  silence  en- 
sued. At  length,  one  of  them,  taking  up  a  belt  of  wampum,  addressed 
himself  thus  to  the  assembly  :  "My  friends  and  brothers,  I  am  come, 
with  this  belt,  from  our  great  father,  Sir  William  Johnson.  He  desired 
ine  to  come  to  you  as  his  ambassador,  and  tell  you  that  he  is  milking  a 
great  feast  at  Fort  Niagara  ;  that  his  kettles  are  all  ready  and  his  fires 
lit.  He  invites  you  to  partake  of  the  feast,  in  common  with  your  friends, 
the  Six  Nations,  who  have  all  made  peace  with  the  English.  He 
advises  you  to  seize  this  opportunity  of  doing  the  same,  as  you  cannot 
Otherwise  fail  of  being  destroyed  ;  for  the  English  are  on  their  march  with 
a  great  army,  which  will  be  joined  by  different  nations  of  Indisms.  In  a 
word,  before  the  full  of  the  leaf,  they  will  be  at  Michilimackinac,  and  the 
Six  Nations  with  them." 

The  tenor  of  this  speech  greatly  alarmeu  the  Indians  of  the  Sault, 
who,  after  a  very  short  consultation,  agreed  to  send  twenty  deputies  to 
Sir  William  Johnson,  at  Niagara.  This  was  a  project  highly  interesting 
to  me,  since  it  ofl'ered  me  the  means  of  leaving  the  country.  I  intimated 
this  to  the  chief  of  the  village,  and  received  his  promise  that  I  should 
accompany  the  deputation. 

Very  little  time  was  proposed  to  be  lost,  in  setting  forward  on  the 
voyage  ;  but  the  occasion  was  of  too  much  magnitude  not  to  call 
for  more  than  human  knowledge  and  discretion  ;  and  preparations  were 
accordingly  made  for  solemnly  invoking  and  consulting  the  Great  Turtle. 

For  invoking  and  consulting  the  Great  Turtle,  the  first  thing  to  be 
done  was  the  building  of  a  large  house  or  wigwam,  within  which  was 
placed  a  species  of  tent,  for  the  use  of  the  priest  and  reception  of  the 
spirit.  The  tent  was  formed  of  moose  skins,  hung  over  a  framework 
of  wood.  Five  poles,  or  rather  pillars,  of  five  different  species  of  timber, 
about  ten  feet  in  height,  and  eight  inches  in  diameter,  Avere  set  in  a 
circle  of  about  four  feet  in  diameter.  The  holes  made  to  receive  them 
were  about  two  feet  deep  ;  and  the  pillars  being  set,  the  holes  were 
filled  up  again,  with  the  earth  which  had  been  dug  out  At  top  the 
pillars  were  bound  together  by  a  circular  hoop,  or  girder.  Over  the 
whole  of  this  edifice  were  spread  the  moose  skins,  covering  it  at  top  and 
around  the  sides,  and  made  fast  with  thongs  of  the  same  ;  except  that  on 


ALEXANDER   HENBt'S   OAPTIVITT. 


487 


f  silence  cn- 


dne  side  a  part  was  left  unfastened,  to  admit  of  the  entrance  of  the 
priest 

The  ceremonies  did  not  commence  but  with  the  approach  of  night 
To  give  light  within  the  house,  several  fires  were  kiiidlcd  round  the 
tent  Nearly  the  whole  village  assembled  in  the  house,  and  myself 
among  the  rest  It  was  not  long  before  the  priest  appeared,  almost  in 
a  state  of  nakedness.  As  he  approached  the  tent  the  skins  were  lifted 
up,  as  much  as  was  necessary  to  allow  of  his  creeping  under  them  on 
his  hands  and  knees.  His  head  was  scarcely  witliinsiJe,  when  the  eiliiicc, 
massy  as  it  has  been  described,  began  to  shake ;  and  the  skins  were  no 
sooner  let  fall,  than  the  sounds  of  numerous  voices  were  heard  beneath 
them,  some  yelling,  some  barking  as  dogs,  some  howling  like  wolves,  juid 
in  this  horrible  concert  were  mingled  screams  and  sobs,  iis  of  despair, 
anguish,  and  the  sharpest  pain.  Articulate  speech  was  also  uttered,  as 
if  from  human  lips,  but  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  any  of  the  audience. 

After  soms  time,  these  confused  and  fiightful  noises  were  succeeded 
by  a  perfect  silence;  and  now  a  voice,  not  heard  before,  seemed  to 
manifest  the  arrival  of  a  new  character  in  the  tent  This  was  a  low 
and  feeble  voice,  resembling  the  cry  of  a  young  puppy.  Tlie  sound 
was  no  sooner  distinguished,  than  all  the  Indians  clapped  their  hands 
for  joy,  excliiiming,  that  this  was  the  Chief  Spirit,  tlu  Turtle,  the  spirit 
that  never  liod!  Other  voices,  which  they  had  discriminated  from  time 
to  time,  they  had  previously  hissed,  as  recognizing  them  to  belong  to 
evil  and  lying  spirits,  which  deceive  mankind. 

New  sounds  came  from  the  tent  During  the  space  of  half  an  hour, 
a  succession  of  songs  were  heard,  in  which  a  diversity  of  voices  met  the 
ear.  From  his  first  entrance,  till  these  songs  were  finished,  we  heard 
nothing  in  the  proper  voice  of  the  priest;  but  now,  he  addressed  the 
multitude,  declaring  the  presence  of  the  Great  Turtle,  and  the  spirit's 
readiness  to  answer  such  questions  its  should  be  proposed. 

The  questions  were  to  come  from  the  chief  of  the  village,  who  was 
silent,  however,  till  after  he  had  put  a  large  quantity  of  tobacco  into 
the  tent,  introducing  it  at  the  aperture.  This  was  a  sacrifice  offered  to 
the  spirit;  for  spirits  are  supposed  by  the  Indians  to  be  as  fond  of  tobacQO 
as  themselves.  The  tobacco  accepted,  he  desired  the  priest  to  inquire 
whether  or  not  the  English  were  preparing  to  make  war  upon  the 
Indians ;  and  whether  or  not  there  were  at  fort  Niagara  a  larue  number 
of  English  troops. 

These  questions  having  been  put  by  the  priest,  the  tent  instantly 
shook;  and  for  some  seconds  after  it  continued  to  rock  so  violently  that 
I  expected  to  see  it  leveled  with  the  groimd,     All  this  was  a  prelude. 


458 


ALEXANDER  nsmiT'S  OAFTITITT. 


as  I  supposed,  to  the  answers  to  be  given ;  but  a  terrific  cry  announced, 
with  sufficient  intelligibility,  the  departure  of  the  Turtle. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  elapsed  in  silence,  and  I  waited  impatiently  to 
discover  what  was  to  be  the  next  incident  in  this  scene  of  imposture.  It 
consisted  in  the  return  of  the  spirit,  whose  voice  was  agidii  heard,  and 
•who  now  delivered  a  continued  speech.  The  language  of  the  Great 
Turtle,  like  that  which  we  liad  heard  before,  was  wholly  unintelligible 
ix>  every  ear,  that  of  his  priest  excepted ;  and  it  was,  therefore,  not  till 
the  latter  gave  us  an  interpretation,  wiiich  did  not  commence  before  the 
spirit  had  finished,  that  we  learned  the  purport  of  this  extraordinary 
communication. 

The  spirit,  as  we  were  now  informed  by  the  priest,  had,  during  his 
short  absence,  crossed  lake  Huron,  and  even  proceeded  as  far  as  fort 
Ni.igara,  which  is  at  the  head  of  lake  Ontario,  and  thence  to  Montreal 
At  fort  Niagara,  he  had  seen  no  great  number  of  soldiers ; .  but  on 
descending  the  St.  Lawrence,  as  low  as  Montreal,  he  had  found  the 
river  covered  with  boats,  and  the  boats  filled  with  soldiers,  in  number 
like  the  leaves  of  the  trees.  He  had  met  them  on  their  way  up  the 
river,  coming  to  make  war  upon  tlie  Indians. 

The  chief  had  a  third  question  to  propose,  and  the  spirit,  without  a 
fresh  journey  to  fort  Niagara,  was  able  to  give  an  instant  and  most 
favorable  answer.  "  If,"  said  the  chief,  "the  Indians  visit  Sir  William 
Johnson,  will  they  bo  received  as  friends  ? " 

"Sir  William  Johnson,"  said  the  spirit,  (and  after  the  spirit  the  priest,) 
"Sir  William  Johnson  will  fill  their  canoes  with  presents,  with  blankets, 
kettles,  guns,  gunpowder  and  shot,  and  large  barrels  of  rum,  such  as 
the  stoutest  of  the  Indians  will  not  be  able  to  lift;  and  every  man  will 
return  in  safety  to  his  family." 

At  this,  the  transport  was  universal ;  and,  amid  the  clapping  of  hands, 
a  hundred  voices  exclaimed,  "  I  will  go,  too!  I  will  go,  too! " 

The  questions  of  public  interest  being  resolved,  individuals  were  now 
permitted  to  seize  the  opportunity  of  inquiring  into  the  condition  of  their 
absent  friends,  and  the  fate  of  such  as  were  sick.  I  observed  that  tho 
answers,  given  to  these  questions,  allowed  of  much  latitude  of  inter- 
pretation. 

Amid  this  general  inquisitiveness,  I  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  my 
own  anxiety  for  the  future;  and  having  first,  like  the  rest,  made  my 
oflFeriiig  of  tobacco,  I  inquired  whether  or  not  I  should  ever  revisit  my 
native  country.  The  question  being  put  by  the  piiest,  the  tent  shook 
as  usual;  after  which  I  received  this  answer:  "That  I  should  take 
courage,  and  fear  no  danger,  for  that  nothing  would  bap;;^cn  to  hurt  me ; 


ALEXANDER  BENRy'S   OAFTIVI'nr. 


460 


and  that  I  should,  in  the  end,  reach  my  friends  and  country  in  safety." 
These  assurances  wrouglit  so  strongly  on  my  gratitude,  that  I  presented 
an  additional  and  extra  offering  of  tobacco. 

The  Great  Turtle  continued  to  bo  consulted  till  near  midnight,  when 
all  the  crowd  dispersed  to  their  respective  lodges.  I  was  on  the  watch, 
through  the  scene  I  have  described,  to  detect  tl\e  particular  contrivances 
by  which  the  fraud  was  carried  on;  but  such  wiis  the  skill  displayed  in 
the  performance,  or  such  my  deficiency  of  penetration,  that  I  made  no 
discoveries,  but  came  away  as  I  went,  with  no  more  than  those  general 
surmises  which  will  naturally  be  entertained  by  every  reader. 

On  the  10th  of  June,  I  embarked  with  the  Indian  deputation,  com- 
posed of  sixteen  men.  Twenty  had  been  the  number  originally  designed; 
and  upward  of  fifty  actually  engaged  themselves  to  the  council  for  the 
undertaking;  to  say  nothing  of  the  general  enthusiasm,  at  the  moment 
of  hearing  the  Great  Turtle's  promises.  But  exclusively  of  the  degree 
of  timidity  which  still  previiiled,  we  are  to  take  into  account  the  various 
domestic  calls,  which  might  supersede  idl  others,  and  detain  many  with 
their  families. 

In  th(!  evening  of  the  second  day  of  om*  voyage,  we  reached  the 
mouth  of  the  Missisaki,  where  we  found  about  forty  Indians,  by  whom 
we  were  received  with  abundant  kindniiss,  and  at  nij>ht  regaled  at  a 
great  feast,  held  on  account  of  our  arrival.  The  viand  was  a  preparation 
of  the  roe  of  the  sturgeon,  beat  up,  and  boiled,  and  of  the  consistence 
of  porridge. 

After  eating,  several  speeches  were  made  to  us,  of  which  the  general 
topic  was  a  request  that  we  should  recommend  the  village  to  Sir  William 
Johnson.  This  request  was  also  specially  addressed  to  me,  and  I  pro- 
mised to  comply  with  it 

On  the  14th  of  Juno,  we  passed  the  village  of  La  Cloche,  of  which 
the  greater  part  of  the  inhabitants  were  absent,  being  already  on  a  visit 
to  Sir  William  Johnson.  This  circumstance  greatly  encouraged  the 
companions  of  my  voyage,  who  now  saw  that  they  were  not  the  first  to 
run  into  danger. 

The  next  day,  about  noon,  the  wind  blowing  very  hard,  we  were 
obliged  to  put  ashore  at  Point  aux  Grondines,  a  place  of  which  some 
description  has  been  given  befjre.  While  the  Indians  erected  a  hut,  I 
employed  myself  in  making  a  fire.  As  I  was  gathering  wood,  an 
unusual  sound  fixed  my  attention  for  a  moment;  but,  as  it  presently 
ceased,  and  as  I  saw  nothing  from  which  I  could  suppose  it  to  proceed, 
I  continued  my  employment,  till,  advancing  further,  I  was  alarmed  by 
a  repetition.    I  imagined  that  it  came  from  above  my  head;  but  after 


!|| 


m 


ALEXANDER   HENRT'S   CAPTIVITT. 


looking  that  way  in  vtiin,  I  cast  my  cycis  oa  tho  ground,  and  there 
discovered  a  rattlesnake,  at  not  more  tliun  two  feet  from  my  naked  k^gs. 
Tho  reptile  was  coiloJ,  uiid  its  liead  raised  considerably  ab.ne  its  body. 
Had  1  advanced  another  step  before  my  discovery,  I  must  iiavo  trodden 
upon  it. 

I  no  sooner  saw  the  snake  tlian  I  Iiiistened  to  tlic  canoo,  in  order  to 
procure  my  gun ;  but  the  liuiiiins,  observing  wiiat  I  was  doing,  iiujuired 
the  occasion,  and  being  infornu'd,  begged  me  to  desist.  At  tiie  same 
time  they  followed  nie  to  the  spot,  wilh  their  pipes  and  tobacco  pouches 
in  their  hands.     On  returnin  ,  1  found  the  snake  still  coiled. 

The  Indians,  on  their  ))art,  surrounded  it,  all  addressing  it  by  turns, 
and  calUng  it  their  t/raitJ/uther;  but  yet  keeping  at  some  distance.  Du- 
ring this  part  of  the  ceremony  they  lilled  their  pipes;  and  now  each 
blew  the  smoke  toward  the  snake,  who,  as  it  appeared  to  me,  really 
received  it  with  pleasure.  In  a  word,  after  reniiiiiiing  coilcid,  and  re- 
ceiving insencc,  for  the  space  of  half  an  hour,  it  stretched  itself  along 
the  ground  in  visible  good  humor.  Its  length  was  between  four  and 
five  feet.  Having  remained  outstretched  for  some  time,  at  last  it  moved 
slowly  away,  the  Indians  following  it,  and  still  addres.-.ing  it  by  the  title 
of  grandfather,  beseeching  it  to  take  care  of  their  families  during  their 
absence,  and  to  be  pleased  to  open  the  heart  of  Sir  William  Johnson, 
so  that  he  might  show  (kcin  churily,  and  liU  their  canoes  with  rum. 

One  of  the  chiefs  added  a  petition  that  the  snake  would  take  no  notice 
of  the  insult  which  had  been  offered  him  by  the  Englishman,  who  would 
even  have  put  him  to  death  but  for  the  interference  of  the  Indians, 
to  whom  it  was  hoped  he  would  impute  no  part  of  the  olfcnsc.  They 
further  requested  that  he  would  remidn  and  inliabit  their  country,  and 
not  return  among  the  English,  that  is,  go  eastward. 

After  the  rattlesnake  was  gone,  I  learned  that  this  was  the  first  time 
that  an  individual  of  the  species  had  been  seen  so  far  to  the  northward 
and  westward  of  the  river  Des  Frangais;  u  circumstance,  moreover,  from 
■which  my  companions  were  disposed  to  infer  that  this  imuiito  liad  come 
or  been  sent  on  purpose  to  meet  thom;  that  his  errand  had  been  no 
other  than  to  stop  th'sni  on  their  way ;  and  that  consequently  it  would  bo 
most "  advisable  to  return  to  the  point  of  departure.  I  was  so  fortunate, 
however,  as  to  prevail  with  them  to  embark;  and  at  si.\  o'(;lock  in  the 
evening  we  again  encamped.  Very  bttle  was  spoken  of  through  tho 
evening,  the  rattlesnake  excepted. 

Early  the  ne.\t  morning  we  proceeded.  Wc  had  a  serene  sky  and 
very  little  wind,  and  the  Indians  therefore  determined  on  steering  across 
the  lako  to  an  island  which  just  appeared  in  the  horizon;  saving,  by 


I  ^. 


ALEXAKDER  HENRT'S   CAPTIVITT. 


461 


cnuii'  across 


this  course,  a  distance  of  thirty  miles,  which  would  bo  lost  in  keeping  the 
shore.  At  nine  o'clock,  A.  M.,  wo  had  a  ligJit  breeze  astern,  to  enjoy 
the  benefit  of  which  we  hoisted  sail.  Soon  after  the  wind  increased,  and 
the  India..'-,  beginning  to  be  alarmed,  frequently  called  on  the  rattle- 
snake to  come  to  their  assistance.  By  degrees  the  waves  grew  high; 
and  at  eleven  o'clock  it  blew  a  hurricane,  and  we  e.\p(;cted  every  moment 
to  be  swallowed  up.  From  prayers  the  Indians  now  proceeded  to  sacri- 
fices, both  alike  offered  to  the  god  rattlesnake,  or  manito  kinihlc.  One 
of  the  chiefs  took  u  dog,  and  after  tying  its  fon;  legs  togetluT,  threw  it 
overboard,  at  the  s:mie  time  calling  on  the  snake  to  preserve  us  from 
being  drowned,  and  desiring  him  to  satisfy  his  hunger  with  the  carcass 
of  the  dog.  The  snake  Avas  un propitious,  and  the  wind  increased. 
Another  chief  saciidced  another  dog,  with  the  addition  of  some  tobacco. 
In  the  prayer  which  accompanied  these  gifts,  he  besought  the  snake,  as 
before,  not  to  avenge  upon  the  Indians  the  insult  which  he  had  received 
from  mysclt",  in  the  conception  of  a  design  to  put  him  to  death.  He 
assured  the  snake  that  I  was  absolutely  an  Englishman,  and  of  kin 
neither  to  him  nor  to  them. 

At  the  conclusion  of  this  speech,  an  Indian  who  sat  near  me  observed, 
that  if  we  were  drowned  it  would  be  for  my  fault  alone,  and  that  I  ought 
myself  to  be  sacrificed,  to  appease  the  angry  manito ;  nor  was  I  without 
apprehensions  that  in  case  of  extremity  this  would  bo  my  fate ;  but  happily 
for  me,  the  storm  at  length  abated,  and  we  reached  the  island  safely. 

The  next  day  was  calm,  and  we  arrived  at  the  entrance  of  the  na\i- 
gation  which  leads  to  lake  Aux  Clmes.  (This  lake  is  now  called  lake 
Simcoe.)  We  presently  passed  two  short  carrying-placer,  at  each  of 
which  were  several  lodges  of  Indians,  (these  Indians  are  Chippeways,  of 
the  particular  description  called  Missisakies;  and  from  their  residence 
at  Matchedash,  or  Matchitashk,  also  called  Matchedash  or  Matchitashli: 
Indians,)  containing  only  women  and  children,  the  men  being  gone  to 
the  council  at  Niagara.  From  this,  as  from  a  former  instance,  my 
companions  derived  new  courage. 

On  the  18th  of  June,  we  crossed  lake  Aux  Claies,  which  appeared  to 
be  upwards  of  twenty  miles  in  length.  At  its  further  end  we  came  to 
the  carrying-place  of  Toronto.  Here  the  Indians  obliged  me  to  carry  a 
burden  of  more  than  a  hundred  pounds  weight  The  day  was  very 
hot,  and  the  woods  and  marshes  abounded  with  musquitoes;  but  the 
Indians  walked  at  a  quick  pace,  and  I  could  by  no  means  see  myself 
left  behind.  The  whole  country  was  a  thick  forest,  through  which  our 
only  road  was  a  foot-path,  or  such  as,  in  America,  is  exclusively  termed 
an  Indian  path. 


i 


▲UEXINDER  hxnkt's  OAPTiyrrT. 


Next  morning  at  ten  o'clock,  wo  reached  the  shore  of  lake  Ontario 
Here  we  were  employed  two  days  in  making  canoes  out  of  the  bark 
of  the  elm  tree,  in  which  we  were  to  transport  ourselves  to  Niagara. 
For  tliis  purpose  the  Indians  first  cut  down  a  tree ;  tlien  stripped  off 
the  bark  in  one  entire  sheet  of  about  eighteen  feet  in  length,  the  incision 
being  lengthwise.  The  canoe  was  now  complete  as  to  its  top,  bottom, 
and  sides.  Its  ends  were  next  closed  by  sewing  the  bark  together ;  and 
a  few  ribs  and  bars  being  introduced,  tlie  architecture  was  finished.  In 
this  manner  we  made  two  canoes,  of  Avhich  one  carried  eight  men  and 
the  other  nine. 

On  the  2 1st,  we  embarked  at  Toronto,  and  encamped  in  the  even- 
ing four  miles  short  of  fort  Niagara,  which  the  Indians  would  not 
approach  till  morning. 

At  dawn,  tile  Indians  were  awake,  and  presently  assembled  in  council, 
still  doubtful  as  to  the  fate  they  were  to  encounter.  I  assured  them  of 
the  most  friendly  welcome;  and  at  length,  after  painting  themselves 
with  the  most  lively  colors,  in  token  of  their  own  peaceable  views,  and 
after  singing  the  song  which  is  in  use  among  them  on  going  into  danger, 
they  embarked,  and  made  for  point  Missisaki,  which  is  on  the  north  side 
of  the  mouth  of  the  river  or  strait  of  Niagara,  as  the  fort  is  on  the  south- 
A  few  minutes  after  I  crossed  over  to  tlie  fort;  and  here  I  was  received 
by  Sir  William  Johnson,  in  a  manner  for  which  I  have  ever  been  grate- 
fully attached  to  his  person  and  memory. 

Thus  was  completed  my  escape  from  the  sufferings  and  dangers  which 
the  capture  of  fort  Michilimackinac  brought  xipon  me ;  but  the  property 
•which  I  had  carried  into  the  upper  country  was  left  behind.  The  reader 
■will  therefore  be  far  from  attributing  to  mo  any  idle  or  unaccountable 
motive,  when  he  finds  me  returning  to  the  scene  of  my  misfortunes. 


rf* 


NARRATIVE    OF   TEE    CAPTIVITY 


FRANCES  NOBLE. 


James  Wiiidden,  the  maternal  grandfather  of  Mrs.  Shute,  was  a  cap- 
tain in  the  army  at  the  taking  of  Cape  Breton  in  1745.  He  owned  a 
tract  of  land  on  Swan  Island,  in  the  river  Kennebec,  wlioro  he  lived  with 
his  family.  One  of  his  daughters  married  Lazarus  NobUt,  of  Portsmouth, 
who  lived  on  the  island  with  her  father.  The  Indians  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  visit  Capt.  Whidden  for  the  purposes  of  trade.  There  was  a 
garrison  on  the  island  to  secure  the  inabitunts  from  the  attacks  of  the 
enemy  in  time  of  war. 

One  morning,  about  the  year  1755,  a  little  after  daybreak,  two  boys 
went  out  of  the  garrison  and  left  the  gate  open.  Tlie  Indians  were  on 
the  watch,  and,  availing  themselves  of  the  opportunity,  about  ninety 
entered  the  garrison.  The  inhabitants  immediately  discovered  that  the 
enemy  was  upon  them;  but  there  was  no  escape.  Captain  Whidden  and 
his  wife  retreated  to  the  cellar,  and  concealed  themselves.  Noble  and 
his  hired  man  met  the  Indians  at  the  head  of  the  stairs,  and  fired  upon 
them,  wounding  one  of  them  in  the  arm.  The  Inr  u  u^  did  not  return 
the  fire,  but  took  Noble,  his  wife  and  seven  chilure  .,  with  Timothy 
Whidden  and  Mary  Holmes,  prisoners.  The  hired  man  and  two  boys 
escaped.  The  captives  were  carried  to  the  water's  side  and  bound; 
excepting  such  as  could  not  run  away.  The  Indians  then  returned  to 
the  garrison,  burnt  the  barn  and  plundered  the  house,  cut  open  the 
feather  beds,  strewed  the  feathers  in  the  field,  and  carried  off  all  the 
alver  and  gold  they  could  find,  and  as  much  of  the  provisions  as  they 
chose.  It  was  supposed  they  omitted  to  burn  the  house  from  the  suspi- 
cion that  the  captain  and  his  wife,  from  whom  they  had,  in  times  of  peace, 
received  many  favors,  were  concealed  in  it  Captain  Whidden,  after 
the  destruction  of  his  property  on  the  bland  returned  to  Greenland,  in 
this  state,  which  is  supposed  to  have  been  his  native  place,  and  there 
died. 


464 


CArriVlTV    OF    FflANCES    NOBI.E. 


The  Tndiiins  nlso  funk,  in  .i  wo^.d  on  t]w  island,  an  old  man  by  the 
name  of  Potncroy,  who  was  ('miiloycd  in  making  siiin^dt's.  Having 
collected  their  eaplivfs  and  iilunder,  liicy  immediately  loft  tho  island, 
and  nimmenced  their  rct\iin  to  Catia-Ja  to  disposo  of  their  prey.  Pomc- 
roy  WHS  old  and  fe«d)le,  and  unable  to  endure  the  fatigue  of  the  march, 
without  more  assistance  than  tho  savages  thought  tit  to  render  liim,  and 
tliey  killed  him  on  the  journey.  They  were  more  nttentivo  to  the  chil- 
dren, as  for  them  they  undoubtedly  expected  a  higher  price  or  a  greater 
ransom.  Abigail,  one  of  the  children,  died  among  the  Indians.  Tho 
other  captives  arrived  safe  in  Canada,  and  were  variously  disposed  of. 
Mr.  Noble  was  sold  to  a  baker  in  Quebec,  and  his  wife  to  a  lady  of  the 
same  place  as  a  chambermtiid.  They  were  allowed  to  visit  each  other 
and  to  sleep  tog(!ther.  Four  of  the  cJiildren  were  also  sold  in  Quebec, 
as  were  Timothy  Whidden  and  Mary  Holmes.  The  captives  in  that  city 
were  exchanged  within  a  year,  and  returned  to  their  homes.  Mr.  Whid- 
den and  Miss  Holmes  were  afterward' united  in  marriage. 

Fanny  Noble,  the  principal  subject  of  this  memoir,  at  the  time  of  her 

captivity,  was  about  thirteen  months  old.     She  was  carried  by  a  party 

of  Indians  to  Montreal.     In  their  attempts  to  dispose  of  her,  they  took 

her  one   day  to   the  liouse  of   Monsieur  Louis  St.  Auge  Charlec,  an 

eminent  merchant  of  that  place,  who  was  at  that  time  on  a  journey  to 

Quebec.     His  lady  was  called  into  the  kitchen  by  one  of  her  maids 

to  see  a  poor  infant  crawling  on  the  tile  floor  in  dirt  and  rags,  picking 

apple  peelings  out  of  the  cracks.     She  came  in,  and  on  kindly  noticing 

the  child,  Fanny  immediately  caught  hold  of  the  lady's  gown,  wrapped 

it  over  her  head,  and  burst  into  tears.     The  lady  could  not  easily  resist 

this  appeal  to  her  compassion.     She  took  up  the  child,  who  clung  about 

her  neck  and  repeatedly  embraced  her.     The  Indians  offered  to  sell  her 

theur  little  captive,  but  she  declined  buying,  not  choosing  probably  in 

the  absence  of  her  husband  to  venture  on  such  a  purchase.    The  Indians 

left  the  house,  and  slept  that  night  on  the  pavements  before  the  door. 

Fanny,  who  had  again  heard  the  voice  of  kindness,  to  which  she  had 

not  been  accustomed  from  her  saTago  masters,  could  not  be  quiet,  but 

disturbed  the  slumbers  and  touched  the  heart  of  the  French  lady  by 

her  incessant  cries.      This  lady  had  then  lately  lost  a  child  by  death, 

and  was  perhaps  more  quick  to  feel  for  the  sufferings  of  children,  and 

more  disposed  to  love  them,  than  she  would  otherwise  have  been.    Early 

the  next  morning  the  Indians  were  called  into  the  house;  Fanny  was 

purchased,  put  bto  a  tub  of  water,  and  having  been  thoroughly  washed, 

vas  dressed  in  the  clothes  of  the  deceased  child,  and  put  to  bed.     She 

■woke  SQuling,  and  seemed  desirous  of  repaying  her  mistress'  kindness 


OAPTIVITr  OF  JBANCEa  NODLB. 


by  her  infantile  prnttlo  and  fond  cnrcssos.  Funny  could  never  learn  for 
wliiit  piico  she  wiis  bouj^lit  of  the  Indians,  ns  her  Frencli  motiiur  de- 
clined answerin;,'  her  quostioiis  upon  tliiit  subject,  tolling  lier  to  bo  a  good 
girl,  and  bo  timnkful  tiiat  slin  was  not  still  in  their  power. 

M.  and  Madam  St.  Autfc  took  a  lively  interest  in  their  little  cnptivo, 
and  treated  her  with  much  tenderness  and  .itl'ectiun.  She  felt  for  them 
a  filial  attachment.  When  her  parent.s  were  exchanged,  her  mother, 
on  h(  r  return  home,  called  upon  Fanny,  and  t<iok  tlu!  child  in  her  arms, 
but  no  instinct  taught  her  to  rejoice  in  the  maternal  ombraoo,  and  sho 
fled  for  protection  to  her  French  mamma.  Mrs.  Noble  received  many 
presents  from  the  French  lady,  and  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  that  her 
daughter  was  left  in  affectionate  hands. 

Fanny  was  taught  to  call  and  consider  M.  and  Miulam  St.  Augo  as 
her  parents.  They  had  her  baptized  by  the  name  of  Eleanor,  and 
educated  her  in  the  Roman  Catholic  religion.  She  learned  her  Pater 
Nosters  and  Ave  Marias,  went  to  mass,  crossed  herself  with  holy  water, 
and  told  her  beads  with  great  devotion. 

When  four  or  five  years  old,  she  was  enticed  away  from  her  Frencli 
parents  by  Wheelwright,  who  had  been  employed  by  the  governmont 
of  Massachusetts  to  seek  for  captives  in  Oaiuida  He  carried  her  to  tho 
Three  Rivers,  where  he  had  several  other  captives,  and  left  her,  as  he 
pretended,  with  a  relation  of  her  French  father  for  a  few  days,  when  she 
expected  to  return  to  Montreal.  But  she  had  not  been  to  the  Three 
Rivers  more  than  twenty-four  hours,  when  tho  old  squaw  who  had  sold 
her  to  Madam  St.  Auge  came  along  in  a  sleigh,  accompanied  by  a  young 
sanop,  seized  upon  Fanny,  and  carried  her  to  St.  Francois,  where  they 
kept  her  about  a  fortnight  She  had  now  attained  an  age  when  sho 
would  be  sensible  of  her  misfortunes,  and  bitterly  lamented  her  sep- 
aration from  her  French  parents.  The  Indians  endeavored  to  pacify 
and  please  lier  by  drawing  on  her  coat  or  frock  the  figures  of  deer, 
wolves,  bears,  fishes,  &c. ;  and  once,  probably  to  make  her  look  as  hand- 
somely as  themselv«is,  they  painted  her  cheeks  in  the  Indian  fashion, 
which  velry  much  distressed  her,  and  the  old  squaw  made  them  wipo 
oflF  the  paint  At  one  time  she  got  away  from  the  savages,  and  sought 
refuge  in  the  best  looking  house  in  the  village,  which  belonged  to  a 
French  priest,  who  kissed  her,  asked  her  many  questions,  and  treated 
her  kindly,  but  gave  her  up  to  the  claim  of  her  Indian  masters.  Whilo 
at  St  Francois,  her  brother,  Joseph  Noble,  who  had  not  been  sold  to  the 
French,  but  still  lived  with  the  Indians,  came  to  see  her,  but  she  bad  a 
great  aversion  to  him.    He  was  in  his  Indian  dress,  and  she  would  not 

believe  him  to  be  a  relation,  or  speak  to  him  if  she  could  avoid  it    She 

30 


■i] 


460 


OArriVlTT    OF    FRANrKH    WOBI,«. 


van  n(  Iniit  turned  bnck  hy  the  Fndiims  to  MnntronI,  nnd  to  her  great 
Kdtisfnclion  Wfw  (U'livcrcd  to  licr  French  father,  who  rewnnh^d  tl»o  In- 
dians for  n^tiirniiiijf  her.  It  wiw  doubtlosH  thct  cxpeotiilioii  of  much 
rownrJ  which  indiicod  tin*  old  nnimw  to  ^vw'  lier  nl  tlit-  Tlireo  llivnrs, 
na  thft  Indiiiiifi  not  Mnfre(|nenlly  stole  hack  r;i|)ti\('s,  in  order  to  extort 
proaonts  for  their  roturn  from  the  l-'reiidi  gentlemen  to  wlioin  the  samii 
captives  hud  hoforo  lieen  Hold.  Before  iliis  timf  sIio  ii;id  been  h.istily 
carried  from  Mnnln-id,  hurried  over  mountains  and  across  waters,  nnd 
foncealod  iimonc;  tlaes,  wliile  tliose  wlio  aceonipatiied  her  were  evidently 
pursued,  nnd  in  great  ai)preh(;nsio!i  of  beinjj;  overtaken;  but  tho  occasion 
of  this  flif^lit  or  its  incidents  she  was  too  young  to  understand  or  distinctly 
to  rcme.mber,  and  she  was  unable  afterward  to  satisfy  herself  whetUer 
her  French  father  conveyed  her  away  to  keep  her  out  of  tho  reach 
of  her  natural  friends,  or  whether  she  was  taken  by  those  friends,  and 
afterward  retaken,  as  at  thct  Three  Rivers,  and  returned  to  Montreal. 
The  French  parents  cautiously  avoided  informing  her  upon  this  subject, 
or  upon  any  other  which  should  remind  her  of  her  captivity,  her  country, 
her  parents,  or  her  frieiuls,  lest  she  should  become  discontented  with  her 
fiituntion,  and  desirous  of  leaving  those  who  hud  ndoptt'd  her.  They  kept 
her  secretfld  from  her  natural  friends,  who  were  in  search  of  her,  nnd 
evaded  every  question  which  might  lead  to  her  discovery.  One  day, 
when  M.  St.  Auge  and  most  of  his  family  were  at  mass,  she  was  sent 
with  another  captive  to  the  third  story  of  the  house,  and  tho  domestics 
were  required  strictly  to  watch  them,  as  it  was  known  that  some  of  her 
relations  were  then  in  ll  ;•  place  endeavoring  to  find  her.  Of  this  cir- 
cumstance she  was  then  ignnrant,  but  she  was  displeased  with  her 
confinement,  and  with  her  little  companion  found  means  to  escape  from 
their  room  and  went  below.  While  raising  a  cup  of  water  to  her  mouth, 
«he  Baw  a  man  looking  at  her  through  the  window,  and  stretching  out 
his  arm  toward  her,  at  the  same  time  speaking  a  language  which  she 
could  not  understand.  She  was  very  much  alarmed,  threw  down  her 
water,  nnd  ran  with  all  possible  speed  to  her  room.  Little  did  she 
suppose  that  it  was  her  own  father,  from  whom  slie  was  flying  in  such 
fear  and  horror.  He  had  returned  to  Canada  to  seek  those  of  his  chil- 
dren who  remained  there.  lie  could  hear  nothing  of  his  Fanny;  but 
watching  the  house,  ho  perceivc^d  her,  as  was  just  stated,  and  joyfully 
stretching  his  arms  toward  her,  exclaimed,  "There's  my  daughter!  O! 
that^s I aoj  daughter!"  But  she  retreated,  and  he  coidd  not  gain  ad- 
mittanoe,  fortbe  house  was  guarded  and  no  stranger  permitted  to  enter. 
Howlioog  >he  oontinued  hovering  about  her  b  unknown,  but  he  left 
ConadB  witiMrat  embracing  her  or  seeing  her  agaia 


OAniTITT  or  rRANOKS  MOJILR. 


MY 


Her  French  pnrentH  put  her  to  a  boarding  school  ullaohed  to  a  naa- 
ncry  in  Moiilriiiil,  wlur*!  hlio  remained  Hi-vcrtl  years,  and  was  taught  ali 
brandies  <»t  necdit!  work,  with  jijeoi^rapliy,  niusic,  |>iiintin;;,  dtn.  In  tho 
same'  Hcliool  wcro  two  Missis .Idimsons,  who  were  (Mplurod  al  ('harlt'8town, 
in  1751,1111(1  twoMis«is  IMiipp^  th(!  daui^hlers  of  Miu  llowc,  who  wan 
taken  at  lliiisdale,  in  175o.  Fanny  was  in  mIkhiI  wiion  Mrn.  lluwo  camn 
fur  lier  dauMjiiUrs,  atid  lon^  renieniberiid  tho  ^ruii  and  lumentatioDH 
of  tlie  youiu^;  captives  when  ohli^ed  to  leavo  tiuir  Kch<»ol  and  maleH  to 
return  to  a  slnm^c,  lli>iu<j;h  their  native  country,  and  to  reiaUvefl  whom 
they  liad  lon<;-  forgotten. 

While  at  school  at  Montreal,  her  brother  Joseph  again  visit^nl  hor.  He 
still  beIon<j;ed  to  (he  iSt.  I'ViUicois  tribe  of  Indians,  and  whm  dressed  ro- 
raurkabiy  h't\e,  having  forty  or  fifty  broaches  in  iiis  shirt,  ciiuipg  on  hiM 
arm,  and  a  great  variety  of  knots  and  bulls  about  liis  clothing.  Hu 
brought  his  little  sister  Kllen,  ns  she  was  then  called,  and  who  was  then 
not  far  fr><ni  seven  years  old,  a  young  fawn,  a  basket  of  cranberries  and 
a  lump  of  sap  sugar.  'J'he  little  girl  was  much  jilt.'ased  with  tl^J  fawn, 
and  hail  no  ;;reat  aversion  to  cranberries  and  sugar,  but  she  whs  inuoh 
frightened  by  the  appearance  of  Joseph,  and  would  receive,  nothing  from 
his  hands,  till,  at  the  suggcsti<jn  of  her  frieiuls,  he  had  washed  the  paint 
from  his  face  and  made  some  alteration  in  )>is  dress,  when  she  ventured 
to  accept  his  oii'erings,  and  immediately  ran  from  his  presence.  The  next 
day,  Joseph  returned  with  the  Indians  to  St.  Francois,  but  some  time 
afterward  M.  iSt  Auge  purchiused  him  of  the  savages,  and  dressed  him  ia 
tlui  French  sts  le;  but  he  never  appeared  so  bold  and  majestic,  so  spirited 
and  vivacious,  as  when  arrayed  in  his  Indian  habit  and  associating  with  his 
Indian  fiiends.  lie  iiuwever  became  much  attached  to  SL  Auge,  who  put 
him  to  school ;  and  when  his  sister  parted  with  him  upon  leaving  Canada,  he 
gave  her  a  si- let  chargt^  not  to  let  it  be  known  where  he  was,  lest  he  too 
sliould  be  obliged  to  leave  his  friends  and  return  to  the  pi  ice  of  his  birth. 

When  between  eleven  and  twelve  years  of  age,  Fanny  waa  sent  to 
the  school  of  L'rsuline  nuns  in  Quebec,  to  complete  her  educatioa 
Here  the  discipline  wiis  much  more  strict  and  solemn  than  in  the  school 
at  Montrcfil.  In  both  places  the  teachers  were  called  half  nuns,  who, 
not  being  professed,  were  allowed  to  go  in  and  out  at  pleasure;  but  «l 
Quebec  the  pupils  wore  in  a  great  measure  secluded  from  the  world* 
being  permitted  to  walk  only  in  a  small  garden  by  day,  and  confined  by 
bolls  and  bars  in  their  wWa  at  night  This  restraint  was  irkoome  to 
Fanny.  She  grew  discontented;  and  at  the  close  of  the  year  ww 
permitted  to  return  to  her  French  parents  at  Montreal,  and  agiun  < 
the  school  in  that  city.  .-    '      '  ....     .^  »•,  - , 


498 


OAPTITITT   or  VRANOEB   NOBLB. 


While  Fanny  was  in  the  nunnery,  being  then  in  her  fourteenth  year, 
she  was  one  day  equally  surprised  and  alarmed  by  the  entrance  of  a 
stranger,  who  demanded  her  of  the  nuns  as  a  redeemed  captive.  Her 
father  had  employed  this  man,  Arnold,  to  seek  out  his  daughter  and 
obtain  her  from  the  French,  who  had  hitherto  succeeded  in  detaining 
her.  Arnold  was  well  calculated  for  this  employment  lie  was  secret, 
(Subtle,  resolute  and  persev(!ring.  He  had  been  some  time  in  the  city 
without  exciting  a  suspicion  of  his  business.  He  had  ascertained  where 
the  captive  was  to  be  found — he  had  procured  the  necessary  powers  to 
secure  her,  and  in  his  approach  to  the  nunnery  was  accompanied  by  a 
sergeant  and  a  iile  of  men.  The  nuns  were  unwilling  to  deliver  up  their 
pupil,  and  required  to  know  by  Avhat  right  he  demanded  her.  Arnold 
convinced  them  that  his  authority  was  derived  from  the  governor,  and 
fhey  durst  not  disobey.  Tiiey,  however,  prolonged  the  time  as  much  as 
possible,  and  sent  word  to  M.  St.  Auge,  hoping  that  he  would  be  able  in 
some  way  or  other  to  detain  his  adopted  daughter.  Arnold,  however,  was 
not  to  be  delayed  or  trilled  with.  He  sternly  demanded  the  captive  by 
the  name  of  Noble  in  the  governor's  name,  and  the  nuns  were  awed  into 
submission.  Fanny,  weeping  and  trembling,  was  delivered  up  by  those 
who  wept  and  trembled  too.  She  accompanied  Arnold  to  the  gate 
of  the  nunnery,  but  the  idea  of  leaving  forever  those  whom  she  loved 
and  going  with  a  company  of  armed  men,  she  knew  not  whither,  was  too 
overwhelming,  and  she  sank  upon  the  ground.  Uer  cries  and  lamen- 
tations drew  the  people  around  her,  and  she  exclaimed  bitterly  against 
the  cruelty  of  forcing  her  away,  declaring  that  she  could  rot  and  would 
not  go  any  further  as  a  prisoner  with  those  frightful  soldiei-s.  At  this 
time  an  English  officer  appeared  in  the  crowd ;  ho  reasoned  with  her, 
soothed  her,  and  persuaded  her  to  walk  with  him,  assuring  her  the  guard 
slipuld  be  dismissed  and  no  injury  befall  her.  As  they  pa.ssed  by  the 
door  of  M.  St  Auge,  on  their  way  to  the  inn,  her  grief  and  exclamations 
were  renewed,  and  it  was  with  great  difficulty  tliat  she  could  be  per- 
suaded to  proceed.  But  the  guard  had  merely  fallen  back,  and  were 
near  enough  to  prevent  a  rescue,  had  an  attempt  been  made.  Captain 
M'Clure,  the  English  officer,  promised  her  that  she  should  be  permitted 
to  visit  her  French  parents  the  next  day.  She  found  them  in  teajs,  but 
they  eould  not  detain  her.  M.  St  Auge  gave  her  a  handful  of  money, 
and  embraced  l»er,  blessed  her,  and  rushed  out  of  the  room.  His  lady 
supplied  her  with  clothes,  and  their  parting  was  most  affectionate  and 
affecting.  She  lived  to  a  considerably  advanced  age,  but  she  could  never 
qpeak  of  this  scene  without  visible  and  deep  emotion. 
She  was  carried  down  the  river  to  Quebec,  where  she  tarried  a  few 


CAPTIVITT  OF   PRANCES   NOBLE. 


460 


days,  and  then  sailed  with  Captain  Wilson  for  Boston.  She  anivcd  at 
that  port  in  July,  one  month  bufore  she  Avas  fourteen  years  of  age.  She 
was  j(!yfully  recciveil  by  her  friends,  but  her  father  did  not  long  survive 
her  rciuni.  AfUir  his  death  she  resided  in  the  family  of  Captain  Wilson, 
at  liostou,  until  she  had  acquired  the  English  language,  of  which  before 
she  was  almost  entirely  ignorant.  She  then  went  to  Newbury,  and 
lived  in  the  family  of  a  relative  of  her  father,  wliere  siie  found  a  home, 
and  that  peace  to  which  she  had  long  been  a  stranger.  Her  education 
liad  (|uaiilied  her  for  the  instruction  of  youth,  and  she  partially  devoted 
herself  to  tliat  employment.  She  was  (,'ngaged  in  a  school  at  Hampton, 
where  she  formed  an  aecjuaintance  with  Mr.  Jonathan  Tilton,  a  gentleman 
of  good  [)roperty  in  Ken.sington,  whom  she  married  about  the  year  1776. 
He  died  in  1798.  In  1801,  she  married  Mr.  Jolm  Shute,  of  New  Market, 
and  lived  in  the  village  of  Newfields,  in  that  town,  till  her  death,  in 
September,  1819.  She  was  much  respected  and  esteemed  in  life,  and 
her  dcftith  w;is,  as  her  life  had  been,  that  of  a  Christian, 


'«v  <■■ 


C;rb. 


NARRATIVE   OP  THE   CAPTIVITY 


OF 


QUINTIN  STOCKWELL. 


Im  the  year  1677,  Si'ptombor  the  19th,  between  sunset  and  dark,  the 
Indians  came  upon  us.*  I  and  anotlier  man,  being-  togetlier,  wc  ran  away  at 
the  outcry  the  Indians  made,  sliouting  and  shooting  at  some  otliors  of  the 
English  that  were  lianl  l)y.     We  took  a  swamp  that  was  at  h^ind  for  our 
refuge;    the  enemy  espying  us  so  near  them,  ran   after  us,  and  shot 
many  guns  at  us;  tlirec  guna  were  discharged  upon  mc,  tlic  enemy  being 
within  three  rods  of  me,  besides  many  otliers  before  that.     Being  in  this 
swamp,  which  was  miry,  I  slumped  in  and  fell  down,  whereupon  one  of 
the  enemy  stepped  to  me,  with  his  hatchet  lifted  up  to  knock  me  on  the 
head,  supposing  that  I  had  been  wounded  and  so  imlit  for  any  other 
travel.     I,  as  it  hapj)encd,  had  a  pistol  by  me,  which,  though  uncharged, 
I  presented  to  the  Indian,  who  presently  stepped  back,  and  told  me  if  I 
would  yield  I  should  have  no  hurt;  he  said,  which  was  not,  true,  that 
they  had  destroyed  all  Hatfield,  and  that  the  wcxids  were  full  of  Indians, 
whereupon  I  yielded  myself,  and  falling  into  their  hands,  was  by  three 
of  them  led  away  uiu^  the  place  wJicncfl  fust  I  began  to  make  my  flight 
Here  two  other  Indians  came  running  to  us,  and  the  one  lifting  up  the 
butt  end  of  his  gun,  to  knock  me  on  the  head,  the  other  with  his  hand 
put  by  the  blow,  and  said  I  was  his  friend.     I  was  iiow  by  my  own  h(nise, 
which  the  Indians  burnt  the  last  year, and  I  was  about  lo  build  uj)  again; 
asid  there  I  had  some  hopes  to  escape  from  them.     There  was  a  horse 
ii:st  by,  which  they  ''ui  mo,  take.     I  did  so,  but  madt;   no  attempt  to 
(•••cape  thereby,  btieause  the  eiiemy  was  near,  and  the  beast  was  slow  and 
'.i;''.     Then  was  I  in  hopes  they  would  send  mc  to  take  my  own  horses, 
>,iiich  they  did;  but  they  were  so  frightened  that  I  could  not  come  near 
;.:)  them,  and  so  fell  still  into  tin;  enemy's  hands.     They  now  took  and 
bound  me  and  led  mc  away,  and  soon  Wius  I  brought  into  the  company 


'At  Dcerfield,  Mass. 


QUiNTm  stockwell's  cAPTivrry. 


40^ 


of  other  captives,  who  were  that  day  brought  away  from  Hatfield,  who 
were  about  a  mile  off;  and  liero  methought  was  matter  of  joy  and  sorrow 
botli:  joy  to  see  company,  and  sorrow  for  our  condition.  Then  wore  we 
pinioned  and  led  away  in  the  night  over  the  mountains,  in  dark  and  hideoua 
ways,  about  four  miles  further,  before  we  louk  up  our  place  for  I'est, 
which  was  in  a  di.-.mal  plaoe  of  wood,  on  the  east  side  of  that  mountiiin. 
We  were  kept  bound  all  that  night.  The  Indians  kept  waking,  and  wo 
had  little  mind  to  sleep  in  tliis  niglit's  travel.  The  Indians  dispersed,  and 
as  they  went  made  strange  noises,  as  of  wolves  and  owls,  and  other  wild 
beasts,  to  the  end  that  they  might  not  1(jso  one  another,  and  if  followed 
they  might  not  be  discovered  by  the  English. 

About  the  break  of  day  we  marched  again,  and  got  over  that  great 
river  at  Pccomptuck  [Dei-rtield]  river  mouth,  and  there  rested  about  two 
hours.  Here  the  Indians  iiiarked  out  upon  the  trees  tiie  numb(;r  of  their 
captives  and  slain,  as  their  manner  is.  Now  was  I  again  in  great  danger, 
a  quarrid  having  arose  about  nie,  wliose  captive  1  was;  for  three  took  mc. 
I  thought  I  must  be  killeil  to  end  the  controversy,  so  wiion  they  put  it  to 
mo,  whose  I  was,  I  said  three  Indians  tt)ok  me;  so  lliey  agreed  to  have 
nil  a  share  in  me.  I  had  now  three  niasteis,  and  he  was  my  chief  master 
who  laid  liands  on  me  first;  and  thus  was  I  fallen  into  the  liands  of  the 
worst  of  all  the  compan)-,  as  Asphelon,  the  Indian  captain,  UAd.  mo 
which  captain  was  all  along  very  kind  to  me,  and  a  great  comfort  to  the 
English.  In^this  place  they  gave  us  some  victuals,  which  they  had 
brought  from  the  English.  This  morning  also  they  sent  ten  men  forth 
to  the  town  of  Deertield  to  bring  away  what  they  could  find.  Some 
provision,  some  corn  out  of  th^  meadow,  they  brought  to  us  on  horses, 
which  they  had  there  taken. 

From  lience  we  wt^nt  uj)  about  the  falls,  where  we  crossed  that  river 
again;  and  whilst  I  was  going.  I  fell  right  down  lame  of  my  old  wounds, 
which  I  had  in  tiie  war,  and  whilst  I  was  thinking  I  should  therefore  be 
killed  by  the  '  ulians,  and  wh;it  death  I  should  ilie,  my  pain  v.'as  suddenly 
gone,  and  I  \\as  much  (Micouraged  again.  We  had  about  eleven  horses 
in  that  company,  which  the  lu'lians  used  to  convey  burdt^ns,  and  to  carry 
women.  It  was  afternoon  when  wo  now  crossed  that  river.  We  traveled 
up  it  till  night,  and  then  took  up  our  lodging  in  a  dismal  place,  and  were 
staked  down,  and  .sprcxid  out  on  ciur  backs;  and  so  we  lay  all  nighty  yCa, 
so  we  lay  many  nights.  Tluy  told  me  their  law  was  that  wc  should  lie 
so  nine  nights  and  by  that  time  it  was  thought  we  should  be  out  of  our 
knowledge.  The  manner  of  staking  down  was  thus:  our  arms  and  legs 
stretched  out,  were  stalced  fast  down,  and  a  cord  about  our  necks,  so  that 
we  could  stir  noways.    The  lirtit  uight  of  staking  down,  being  much  tired; 


472 


QDIKTIN   BTOCKWKLL'S    CAPTIVITr. 


I  slept  as  comfortable  as  ever.  Tlie  next  day  we  went  up  the  river,  and 
crossed  it,  and  at  night  lay  in  Squakhcag  [Nortlilield]  meadows.  Our 
provision  vnvs  soon  spent,  and  vchilo  we  lay  in  those  meadows  the  Indians 
M'cnt  u  hunting,  and  the  English  army  (■anio  out  afier  us.  Tiicn  the 
Indians  moved  again,  di\iiling  tlu'insth fs  and  the  captives  into  many 
companies,  that  the  Engli^<^l  might  not  fullow  their  tracks.  At  night, 
having  crossed  tlic!  rivt  r,  we  met  again  at  the  j)lace  appointed.  The  iie.xt 
day  we  crosis<.d  il  again  on  Sijuaklieag  .side,  and  there  we  took  up  our 
quarters  for  a  long  time.  I  .suj)pose  liiis  might  be  about  thirty  miles 
above  Squakheag;  and  heie  were  the  Indians  quite  out  of  all  fear  of  tho 
English,  but  in  great  fear  of  the  Mohawks.  Hero  they  built  a  long 
wigwam,  and  had  a  great  dance,  as  they  call  it,  and  concluded  to  burn 
three  of  us,  and  hud  got  bark  to  do  it  with;  and,  as  1  understood  afterward, 
I  was  one  that  was  to  be  burnt,  sergeant  Plimpton  another,  and  Benjamin 
Waite's  wife  tlie  third.  Though  I  knew  not  which  was  to  be  burnt,  yet 
I  perceived  som*;  were  designed  thereunto;  so  much  I  understood  of  their 
language.  That  night  I  could  not  sleep  for  fear  of  next  day's  work.  The 
Indians  being  weary  with  the  dance,  lay  down  to  sleep,  and  slept  soundly. 
The  English  were  ;',11  loose;  then  I  went  out  and  brought  in  wood,  and 
mended  the  fire,  and  mule  a  noi.'^e  on  purpose,  but  none  awakened.  I 
Ihouglit  if  any  of  tlu!  English  would  awake,  we  might  kill  them  all 
sleeping.  1  removed  out  of  Uie  way  all  the  guns  and  hatchets,  but  ray 
heart  failing  me,  I  put  all  the  things  where  they  were  again.  J^'he  next  day, 
when  wc  were  to  be  burnt,  our  master  and  t-ome  others  spoke  for  us,  and 
the  oril  was  jjrevented  in  this  place.  Hereabouts  we  lay  three  weeks 
togctlier.  Here  I  had  a  shirt  biought  to  me  to  make,  and  one  Indian 
said  it  should  be  made  this  way,  a  second  another  way,  a  third  his  way. 
I  told  them  I  would  midce  it  that  way  my  chief  master  said;  Avhercupoii 
one  Indian  struck  me  on  the  face  with  his  fist.  I  suddenly  rose  up  in 
anger,  ready  to  strike  again ;  upon  this  happened  a  great  hubbub,  and  the 
Indians  and  English  came  abo\it  me.  I  was  fain  to  humble  myself  to 
my  master,  so  that  matter  was  put  upi.  Before  I  came  to  this  place,  my 
three  masters  were  gone  a  hunting;  I  was  left  with  another  Indian,  all 
tlie  company  being  uj)r)M  a  march;  1  was  left  with  this  Indian,  wiio  fell 
tick,  so  that  I  was  fain  to  carry  his  gun  and  hatchet,  and  had  opportunity, 
and  had  thought  to  have  dispatched  him  and  run  away  ;  but  did  not,  for 
that  the  English  cajitives  had  promised  the.  contrary  to  one  another; 
becau-sc,  if  one  should  run  away,  that  would  provoke  the  Indians,  and 
endanger  the  rest  that  could  not  run  away. 

Whilst  wc  were  here,  Benjamin  Stebbins,  going  with  some  Indians  to 
Wachusct  Hills,  made  his  escape  from  them,  and  when  the  news  of  his 


QUINTIN   STOCKWELL'S    OAPTIVITT. 


473 


escape  came  wo  wore  all  presently  called  in  and  boinil;  one  of  the 
Indians,  a  captiiti  amimjj  them,  and  always  our  ^irat  I'liri;'!,  m"t  mo 
coming  in,  and  tuld  mo  Stobbins  wfis  run  away;  and  tiio  Inli  ins  spako 
of  burning  us;  si>mi',  of  only  burning  and  biting  nil"  mw  li  i-rr-i,  by  and 
by.  lie  said  thon;  would  bo  a  court,  an  1  nil  wmil  1  spivik  I'loir  minds, 
but  ]n:  W')uld  spi'ak  last,  ai;d  would  say,  that  tii?  In.lim  wlio  lot  Stob- 
bins run  away  Wiis  oidy  in  fault,  and  so  no  hurt  should  bo  d  mo  us,  and 
added,  "  foir  not,"  so  it  proved  accordingly.  Wiiijst,  w.'  ling 'rod  hore- 
about,  provi>i')M  grow  scarce;  one  boar's  foot  must  sorv  i  liv.!  of  us  a 
whole  day.  Wo  b(\gan  to  out  horse-flesh,  and  eat  up  s.'von  in  all;  three 
were  left  alive  and  not  killed.  After  we  had  been  bore,  s  )ine  of  tiio 
Indiaius  h;ul  been  down,  and  fallen  upon  Iladloy,  aal  wor;'  ii';  ;u  bv  the 
English,  agr(!od  witii  and  lot  go  again.  Tluy  wore  to  nn'ot  tiie  En/lish 
upon  such  a  plain,  there  to  make  further  terms.  Ash;)  iloa  was  mueii  for 
it,  but  Wauhusot  sachems,  when  they  came,  wore  much  a^iiast  it,  luid 
were  fortliis:  that  w(?  should  meet  the  Eng'isli,  indeoJ,  hut  there  fall 
upon  them  and  light  them,  and  take  thom.  Then  Ashpaldn  spake  to  us 
English,  not  to  speak  a  word  more  to  further  that  m  itt"i',  f  »r  mischief 
would  come  of  it.  WhcMi  tho.se  Indians  came  tVom  Waeliu^et  tlr;re  camo 
with  them  sfjuaws  and  children,  about  four  scorr,  wlio  rep  )rto'l  that  tho 
English  had  taken  Uncas,  and  all  his  men,  and  sent  them  beyond  seas. 
They  were  much  enraged  at  this,  and  asked  if  it  were  true;  we  said,  no. 
Then  was  Aslipalon  angry,  and  said  lie  would  no  more  l)eiiiive  English- 
men. They  examined  us  every  one  apart,  and  then  tlo'y  dealt  worse 
with  us  for  a  season  than  before.  Still  provision  was  scarce.  We  came 
at  length  to  a  placi;  called  Scpiaw  Maug  river;  there  we  hoped  for  sal- 
mon; but  we  came  too  late.  This  place  I  account  to  be  above  two 
hundred  miles  above  Deerfield.  We  now  parted  into  two  companies; 
some  went  one  way,  and  some  went  another  way;  and  we  went  over  a 
mighty  mountain,  it  taking  us  eight  days  to  go  over  it,  and  tra\  elod  voiy 
hard  too,  having  every  day  either  snow  or  rain.  We  noted  that  on  this 
mountain  all  the  water  run  northward.  Hero  also  we  wanted  provision; 
but  at  length  we  nwt  again  on  the  other  side  of  the  mountain,  viz:  on 
the  north  side,  at  a  riviu"  that  runs  into  the  lake;  and  we  were  then  half 
a  day's  journey  off  the  lake. 

We  staid  tlu're  a  [>reat  while,  to  make  canoes  to  u.-o  over  the  lake. 
Here  I  was  frozen,  and  again  we  were  like  to  starve.  All  the  Indians 
went  a  hunting,  but  could  gi't  nothing;  divers  days  they  powwowed,  and 
yet  got  nothing;  then  they  desired  the  iMiglish  to  pray,  and  confessed 
they  could  do  nothing;  they  would  have  us  priy,  and  see  what  the  Eng- 
lishman's God  could  do.     1  prajcd,  so  dkl  sergeant  Plimpton,  in  ani:)thcr 


AH 


QUINTOV   STOCKWXLL'S   OAPTIVITT. 


place.  The  Indians  reverently  attended,  morning  and  night  Next  day 
thoy  got  boars;  then  they  would  needs  have  us  desire  a  blessing,  and 
return  thanks  at  meals;  after  a  while  they  grew  weary  of  if,  and  the 
sacliem  bid  forbid  us.  Wiien  I  was  frozen  they  were  very  cruel  toward 
me  because  I  could  not  do  as  at  other  times.  Wiien  we  v.nnw  to  the 
liike  we  were  ngain  sadly  put  to  it  for  provision.  We  were  fain  to  eat 
touchwood  fried  in  bear's  grease.  At  last  we  found  a  company  of  rac- 
coons, and  then  we  made  a  feast;  and  the  manner  Avas  that  we  must  eat 
all.  I  perceived  there  would  be  too  much  for  one  time,  so  one  Indian 
who  s;it  next  to  me  bid  me  .slip  away  some  to  him  under  his  coat,  and  he 
would  hide  it  for  me  till  another  time.  This  Indian,  as  S(X)n  as  lie  had 
got  my  meat,  stood  up  and  made  a  speech  to  the  rest,  and  discovered 
me ;  so  that  the  Indians  were  very  angry  and  cut  me  another  piece,  and 
gave  me  raccoon  grease  to  drink,  which  made  me  sick  and  vomit.  1  told 
them  I  liad  enough;  so  ever  after  that  tliey  would  give  me  none, 
but  still  tell  me  I  had  raccoon  enough.  So  I  suffered  much,  and 
being  frozin,  w;is  full  of  pain,  and  could  sleep  but  a  little,  yet 
must  do  mywork.  AViien  they  went  upon  th(>  lake,  and  as  tlioy  camo 
to  it,  they  lit  cf  a  moose  and  killed  i(,  and  staid  there  till  they  had 
eaten  it  all  up. 

Aft(vr  entering  uj)on  the  lake,  there  arose  a  great  storm,  and  we 
thought  Ave  sliouid  all  be  cast  away,  but  at  last  we  got  (o  i}n  island,  and 
there  they  went  to  powwtiwing.  The  powwow  said  that  I't'iijamin  Waito 
and  another  man  was  coming,  and  that  storm  was  raised  to  cast  them 
away.  Tliis  afterward  appeared  to  be  true,  though  then  I  believed  them 
not.  Upon  tills  island  we  lay  still  several  days,  and  then  set  out  again, 
but  a  storm  took  us,  so  that  we  lay  to  and  fro,  upon  certain  islands,  about 
three  weeks.  W<;  had  r.o  provision  but  raccoons,  so  that  the  Indians 
themselves  tiiought  they  should  be  starved.  They  gave  me  nothing, 
so  that  I  was  sundrj'  days  without  any  provision.  We  went  on  upon 
the  lak(>,  upon  that  isle,  about  a  day's  journey.  We  had  a  little  sled 
upon  Avliich  we  drew  our  load.  Before  noon,  I  tired,  and  just  then  the 
Indians  met  with  some  Frenchmen  ;  then  one  of  the  Indians  that  took 
me,  came  to  me,  and  called  me  all  manner  of  bad  names,  and  threw  me 
down  upon  my  back.  I  told  him  I  could  not  do  any  more  ;  then  he 
said  he  must  kill  me.  I  thought  he  Avas  about  to  do  it,  for  he  pulled 
out  his  knife  and  cut  out  my  pockets,  and  Avrapped  them  about  my  face, 
helped  me  up,  and  took  my  sled  and  Avent  aAvay,  giving  me  a  bit  of 
biscuit,  as  big  as  a  Avalnut,  Avhich  he  had  of  the  Frenchman,  and  told 
me  he  Avould  give  tne  a  pipe  of  tobacco.  When  my  skid  Avas  gone, 
I  could  run  after  liim,  but  at  last  I  could  not  run,  but  Avont  a  foot-paco 


Q0INTIN   STOCKWKtL'B   CAPTIVITT. 


4,19 


The  Indians  were  soon  out  of  sight.     I  followed  as  well  as  I  could,  ind 
had  many  fulls  upon  the  ice. 

At  last,  I  was  so  spent,  I  had  not  stronjijth  enough  to  rise  again,  but 
I  crept  to  a  tree  that  lay  along,  and  ;;()t  upon  it,  and  there  I  lay.  It 
was  now  night,  and  very  sharp  weather  :  I  ctninted  no  other  hut  that  I 
must  die  here.  Wiji'st  I  was  thinking  df  death,  an  Indian  hall'icd,  and 
I  answered  him  ;  he  came  to  me,  and  calU'd  nv  had  names,  and  told 
me  if  I  could  not  go,  he  must  knock  me  on  the  head.  I  told  him  he 
must  th(!n  do  so  ;  lie  saw  how  I  had  wallowed  in  the  snow,  but  could 
not  rise  ;  then  he  took  liis  coat  and  wrapt  me  in  it,  and  weyt  back  and 
sent  two  Indians  with  a  sled.  One  said  ho  must  knock  me  on  the  head, 
the  other  said  no,  they  would  carry  mo  away  and  burn  me.  Then  they 
bid  me  stir  my  instep,  to  see  if  that  were  frozen  ;  I  did  so.  Wiion  they 
saw  that,  they  said  tliat  was  Wurregtni.  There  was  a  chirurgeon 
among  the  French,  they  said,  that  could  cure  me  ;  then  they  took  mo 
upon  a  sled,  and  carried  mo  to  the  (Ire,  and  made  nmeh  of  mo  ;  pulled 
oflF  my  wet  and  wrappi^J  me  in  my  dry  clothes,  and  made  me  a  good 
bed.  They  had  kill(>d  an  otter,  and  gave  me  some  of  the  broth  made 
of  it,  and  a  bit  of  t!»e  flct^h.  Here  I  slept  till  toward  day,  and  then 
Avas  able  to  get  up  and  put  on  my  clothes.  One  of  the  Indians  awaked, 
and  seeing  me  walk,  shouted,  as  rejoicing  at  it.  As  soon  as  it  wiis  light, 
I  and  Samuel  Russell  went  before  on  the  ice,  upon  a  river.  They  said 
I  must  go  where  I  could  on  fjot,  else  I  shoiild  freeze.  Samuel  Russell 
slipt  into  the  river  with  one  f(wt  ;  the  Indians  called  him  back,  and  dried 
his  stocking.s,  and  then  sent  us  away  and  an  Indian  with  us  to  pilot  us. 
We  went  four  or  five  miles  before  tiiey  oveilook  us.  I  was  then  pretty 
well  spent.  Samuel  Russell  was,  ho  said,  faint,  and  wondered  how  I 
could  live,  for  he  had,  he  said,  ten  meals  to  my  one.  Then  I  was  laid 
on  the  sled,  and  they  ran  away  with  me  on  the  ice  ;  the  rest  and  Samuel 
Russell  came  softly  after.  Samuel  Russell  I  never  saw  more,  nor  know 
I  what  became  of  him.  They  got  but  half  way,  and  we  got  through  to 
Shamblee  about  midnight.  Six  miles  off  Shamblee,  (a  French  town,) 
the  river  was  open,  and,  when  I  came  to  travel  in  that  part  of  the  ice,  I 
soon  tired  ;  and  two  Indians  ran  away  to  town,  and  one  only  was  left  ; 
he  would  carry  me  a  few  rods,  and  then  I  woidd  go  as  manj',  and  then 
a  trade  we  drove,  and  so  were  long  in  going  the  six  miles.  This  Indian 
was  now  kind,  and  told  mo  that  if  he  did  not  carry  me  I  would  die,  and 
BO  I  should  have  done,  sure  enough  ;  and  he  said  I  must  tell  the  English 
how  be  helped  me.    When  we  came  to  the  first  house,  there  was  no 


m 


QUINTIN   BTOOKWELL'S   CAPTIVITY. 


inhabitant  Tiie  Indian  wiis  also  spent,  and  bolli  wore  discouraged  ;  ho 
said  wo  must  nuw  dii.':  Uyother.  At  last  iu!  left  me  alone,  and  got  to 
anotluT  liDUsc,  and  tlii-'neo  came  some  French  iind  Jiidiu;.s,  and  brought 
me  ill.  Till!  French  Wi^re  kind,  and  put  my  liaiuls  u;id  feet  in  cold 
water,  and  gave  iik!  a  drain  of  brandy,  and  a  lillle  lia.sty  pudding  and 
milk  ;  wiicn  1  tasted  victuals,  1  was  Imngry,  and  could  not  jiave  for- 
borne it,  l)ut  I  could  not  get  it.  Now  and  then  tliry  would  give;  nie  a 
little,  as  tli!'y  thought  bi'st  for  me.  1  laid  by  the  lire  with  the  Indian 
that  night,  but  could  not  sleep  for  pain.  Ne.\t  morning,  the  Indians  and 
French  frll  out  about  me,  because  the  French,  iis  tin;  liuiiaiis  said,  loved 
the  Eiiglisli  better  than  the  Indians.  The  French  presently  turned  the 
Indians  out  of  doors,  and  kept  nu;. 

Tliey  were  vi'iy  kind  and  careful,  and  gave  me  a  little  something  now 
and  liu'ii.  Willie  I  was  lierc,  all  the  men  in  that  town  came  to  sec  me. 
At  tliis  house  [  was  three  or  four  days,  and  then  invited  to  another,  and 
after  tliat  to  another.  In  this  place  I  was  about  thirteen  days,  and 
received  much  civility  from  a  young  man,  a  bachelor,  wlio  invited  me  to 
liis  house,  with  whom  I  was  for  the  most  part  of  the  time,  lie  was  so 
kind  as  to  lodge  mo  in  tiie  bed  with  himself,  gave  me  a  shirt,  and  would 
have  bought  me,  but  could  not,  as  the  Indians  asked  one  hundred  pounds 
for  me.  We  were  then  to  go  to  a  place  called  Sorel,  and  that  young 
man  would  go  with  me,  because  the  Indians  should  not  hurt  me.  This 
man  carried  me  on  the  ice  one  day's  journey,  for  I  could  not  now  go  at 
all,  and  there  was  so  much  water  on  the  ice  we  could  go  no  farther.  So 
the  Frenchman  left  me,  and  provision  for  me.  Here  wc  staid  two 
nights,  and  then  traveled  again,  for  now  the  ice  was  strong,  and  in  two 
days  more  we  came  to  Sorel.  When  we  got  to  the  first  house,  it  was 
late  in  the  night  ;  and  here  again  the  people  were  kind.  Next  day, 
being  in  much  pain,  I  asked  the  Indians  to  carry  me  to  the  chirurgeons, 
as  they  liad  promised,  at  which  they  were  wroth,  and  one  of  them  took 
up  his  gun  to  knock  me,  but  the  Frenchman  would  not  suffer  it,  but  set 
upon  him  and  kicked  him  out  of  doors.  Then  we  went  away  from 
thence,  to  a  place  two  or  three  miles  off,  wliere  the  Indians  had  wigwams. 
When  I  came  to  these  wigwams,  some  of  the  Indians  knew  me,  and 
seemed  to  pity  me. 

Wliile  I  was  here,  which  was  three  or  four  days,  the  French  came  to 
see  me  ;  and  it  being  Cliristmas  time,  they  brought  cakes  and  other 
provisions  with  them  and  gave  to  me,  so  that  I  had  no  want.  The 
Indians  tried  to  cure  me,  but  could  not.  Then  I  asked  for  the  chirur- 
geon,  at  which  one  of  the  Indians  in  anger  struck  me  on  tlie  face  with 
his  fist     A  Frenchman  being  by,  spoke  to  him,  but  I  knew  not  what  he 


QcnfTiK  stookwkll'o,  cAPTivnr. 


477 


Scoid,  nnd  then  went  his  wny.  By  and  by  came  the  captain  of  the  place 
into  tlio  wigwam,  willi  ubout  twdvi!  aimed  nu-n,  and  asked  wlu-ru  the 
Iiidiaii  was  that  stnuk  tlie  Eiiylisliman.  Tlioy  look  Iiim  niid  told  liim 
he  should  go  to  tiie  bilboes,  and  then  be  hnnj^ed.  The  Indians  were 
much  turrillcd  at  tliis,  as  appeared  by  tlieir  countenances  and  trembling. 
I  \v(;uld  liavo  gom.'  too,  but  the  Fruudiman  bid  me  not  fear  ;  that  the 
Indians  duist  not  hurt  m(\  When  that  Indian  was  a'cne,  I  had  two 
masters  still.  I  asked  them  to  carry  me" to  that  captain,  that  I  might 
speak  for  tlie  Indian.  They  answered,  "  You  are  a  fool.  Do  you  think 
the  French  ai'e  like  the  English,  to  say  one  thing  and  do  ai;olher  ?  They 
are  men  of  their  words."  I  prevaiU'd  with  tlicm,  however,  to  help  me 
thither,  and  I  spoke  to  the  captain  by  an  interpreter,  and  told  him  I 
desired  him  to  set  the  Indian  free,  and  told  him  what  he  had  done  for 
me,  He  told  me  he  was  a  rogue,  and  should  be  hanged.  Tlu.'n  I  spoke 
more  privately,  alledging  this  reiison,  that  because  all  the  English  captives 
were  not  come  in,  if  be  were  hanged,  it  might  fare  the  wors-e  with  them. 
The  C!)ptain  said  "  that  was  to  be  considered."  Then  he  set  him  at 
liberty  upon  this  condition,  that  h(i  should  never  strike  mo  more,  and 
every  day  bring  me  to  his  house  to  eat  victuals.  I  perceived  that  the 
common  people  did  not  like  what  the  Indians  had  done  and  did  to  the 
English.  When  the  Indian  wiis  set  free,  he  came  to  me,  and  took  mo 
about  the  middle,  and  said  I  was  his  brother  ;  that  I  had  saved  his  life 
once,  iuid  he  had  saved  mine  thrice.  Then  he  called  for  brandy  and 
made  me  drink,  and  had  me  away  to  the  wigwams  again.  When  I  came 
tiicre,  the  Indians  came  to  me  one  by  one,  to  shake  hands  with  mc, 
saying  Wurregen  Netop,  and  ,vere  very  kind,  thinking  no  other  but 
that  I  had  saved  the  Indian's  life. 

The  next  day  he  carried  me  to  that  captain's  house,  and  set  mo 
down.f  They  gave  me  ray  victuals  and  wine,  and  being  left  there  & 
while  by  the  Indians,  I  showed  the  captmn  my  fingers,  which,  when  he 
and  his  wife  saw,  they  ran  away  from  the  sight,  and  bid  mc  lap  it  up 
again,  and  sent  for  the  chirurgeon  ;  who,  when  he  came,  said  he  could 
cure  me,  and  took  it  in  hand,  and  dressed  it.  The  Indians  toward  night 
came  for  mc  ;  I  told  them  I  could  not  go  with  them.  They  were  dis- 
pleased, called  mc  rogue,  and  went  away.  That  night  I  was  full  of  pain; 
the  French  feared  that  I  would  die  ;  five  men  did  watch  with  me, 
and  strove  to  keep  me  cheerly,  for  I  was  sometimes  ready  to  faint 
Oftentimes  they  gave  me  a  little  brandy.  The  next  day  the  chinirgeon 
came  again,  and  dressed  me  ;    and   so  he  did  all  the  while  I  was 


*18 


QUINTIN   QTOOKWSLL'S   CAPTIVITr. 


among  the  French.      I  came  in  nt  Christmas,  and  went  thcnco  on  tho 
HiTotid  of  May. 

Being  tliiis  in  tiic  captain's  liousc,  I  was  kept  tliore  till  Benjamin  Waito 
came  ;  and  now  my  Indian  master,  being  in  want  of  money,  pawned  rac 
t(>  the  captain  for  fourteen  beavers'  skins,  or  tlie  worth  of  them,  at  sucli 
a  day  ;  if  he  did  not  pay,  ho  must  lose  his  pawn,  or  else  .sell  me  for 
twenty-one  beavers,  but  ho  could  not  get  beaver,  and  so  I  was  sold. 
By  being  thus  sold,  adds  Dr".  Mather,  he  was  in  Ood'a  good  time  set  at 
liberty,  and  returned  to  his  friends  in  New  England  again. 


w 


>l 


NARRATIVE    OF    THE    CATTIVITY 


PETER  WILLIAMSON. 


I  was  born  within  ten  miles  of  the  town  of  AbciJcon,  in  tlie  north  of 
Scotliind,  of  ropulaWc  parents.  At  eight  yenrs  of  nf;(',  being  a  sturfly 
boy,  I  was  taken  nutieo  of  by  two  fellows  belonging  to  a  vt  ssel,  employed 
(lis  the  tradi-  then  was)  by  some  of  the  worthy  merchants  of  Aberileen 
in  tliat  villanous  and  execrable  practice  of  stealing  young  children  from 
their  parents,  and  selling  them  as  slaves  in  the  plantations  abroud,  and 
on  board  llie  sliip  I  was  easily  cajoled  by  them,  wli.  re  I  was  conducted 
between  decks,  to  some  others  they  had  kidnapped  in  the  same  manner, 
and  in  about  a  month's  time  set  sail  for  America  When  arrived  at  Phila- 
delphia, the  eiiptain  sold  us  at  about  sixteen  pounds  jier  In  ad  What  be- 
came of  my  unhappy  companions  I  never  knew  ;  but  it  was  my  lot  to  be 
sold  for  seven  years,  to  one  of  my  countrymen,  who  had  in  liis  youth  been 
kidnapped  like  myself,  but  from  another  town. 

Having  no  children  of  his  own,  and  commiserating  my  condition,  he 
took  care  of  me,  indulged  me  in  goini^  to  school,  where  I  went  e\cry  win- 
ter for  five  years,  and  made  a  tolerable  proficiency.  With  tliis  good 
master  I  continued  till  he  died,  and,  as  a  reward  for  my  faithful  service, 
he  left  me  two  hundred  pounds  currency,  which  was  then  about  an 
hundred  and  twenty  pounds  sterling,  his  best  horse,  saddle,  and  all  his 
wearing  apparel. 

Being  now  seventeen  years  old,  and  my  own  master,  having  money  in 
my  pocket,  and  all  other  necessaries,  I  employed  nijsclf  in  jobbing  for 
near  seven  years  ;  when  I  resolved  to  settle,  and  married  the  daughter 
of  a  substantial  planter.  My  father-in-law  made  me  a  deed  of  gift  of  a 
tract  of  land  that  lay  (unhappily  for  me,  as  it  has  since  proved)  on  the 
frontiers  of  the  province  of  Pennsylvania,  near  the  forks  of  Delaware, 
containing  about  two  hundred  acres,  thirty  of  which  were  well  cleared  and 
£t  for  immediate  use;  on  which  wore  a  good  house  and  bam.    The  place 


480 


CAPTIVITY   or   FETXR   WILLIAMSON. 


plonsinf,'  mo  wo]],  T  scttlid  on  \t.  My  money  T  expended  in  buylnp;  stock, 
IxiUKeliold  I'lnniturc,  and  inipIcMients  (or  (Hit-ul  (I<N.r  work;  and  being 
happy  ill  a  p;oih\  wife,  my  feiieity  was  complete  :  but  in  I7fi4,  tlic  Indians, 
who  had  lor  a  lony;  time  before  ravaged  and  destroyed  other  jiarts  of 
Anieiica  utiniolestcd,  began  now  to  be  very  troul)Iesome  on  tlie  frontiers 
of  our  provitu;!',  wbi'rc  they  generally  appeared  in  BnuiU  bkulkin^!;  particH, 


committing  great  devastations*. 


'I'errilile  and  slimking  fo  human  nature  were  the  barbarities  daily  com- 
mitted  by  these   savages  I      Scaree  did  a  day  pass  but  somo  unhappy 
family  or  other  fell  vieiinia  to  savage  cruelty.     Teriible,  indeed,  it  proved 
to  me,  as  well  as  (o  many  others.     1,  that  was  now  hnppy  in  nn  easy 
state  of  life  ;  blessed  with  an  ailVctionato  and  tender  wife,  became  on  a 
Fudden  one  of  the  nn'st  unhappy  of  mankind:    scarce  can  I  sustain  tho 
shock  which  ffjrever  recurs  on  recollecting  the  fatal  sicond  of  October, 
17.')4.     My  wife  tiiat  day  went  from  home,  to  visit  some  of  her  relations  ; 
as  I  staid  up  later  than  ustud,  e.\j)ecting  her  return,  none  being  in  tho 
hf»usc  besides  myself,  bow  great  was  my  surprise  and  terror,  when,  about 
eleven  o'clock  at  night,  I  heard  the  dismal  war-whoop  of  the  aavuges,  anil 
found  that  my  house  was  beset  by  then>.     1  Hew  to  my  chamber  window, 
and  perceived  them  to  be  twelve  in  number.     Having  my  gun  loaded,  1 
threatened  them  with  death,  if  they  did  not  retire.     IJut  how  vain  nnd 
fruitless  are  the  efiorls  of  one  man  against  the  unit*  d  ft)rce  of  so  many  blood- 
thirsty monsters  I     One  of  them,  that  could  speak  Knglish,  threatened  mc 
in  return,  "That  if  I  did  not  come  out  they  would  burn  me  alive,"  adding, 
however,  "that  if  I  Avould  come  out  and  surrender  myself  prisoner,  they 
would  not  kill  me."     In  such  deplorable  circumstances,  I  chose  to  rely  on 
their  promises,  rather  than  meet  death  by  rejecting  them;  and  accordingly 
went  out  of  the  house,  with  my  gun  in  my  hand,  not  knowing  thut  I  had 
it     Immediately  on  my  approach  they  rushed  on  me  like  tigers,  and  in- 
stantly disarmed  nic.     Having  me  thus  in  their  power,  they  bound  me  to 
a  tree,  went  into  the  house,  plundered  it  of  every  thing  they  could  carry 
off",  and  then  set  tire  to  it,  and  consumed  what  was  left,  before  my  eyes. 
Not  satisfied  with  this,  they  set  tire  to  my  barn,  stable,  and  out-houscs, 
wherein  were  about  two  hundred  bushels  of  wheat,  sLx  cows,  four  horses, 
and  Cve  sheep,  all  of  which  wero  consumed  to  ashes. 

Having  thus  finished  the  execrable  business  about  which  they  came, 
one  of  the  monsters  come  to  mc  with  a  tomahawk  and  threatened  me 
with  the  worst  of  deaths  if  I  woidd  not  go  with  them.  This  I  agreed  to, 
and  then  they  untied  mc,  gave  me  a  load  to  carry,  under  which  I  traveled 
all  that  night,  full  of  the  most  terrible  apprehensions,  lest  my  unhappy 
wife  should  likewise  have  fallen  into  their  cruel  power.    At  daybreak  my 


CAPT1VIT»   OF    PBTBR  WILLIAMBON. 


481 


\'\t\(f  stock, 
mid  being 
ic  Indiaiifl, 
r  [Jiirls  of 
ic  frimticrs 

llf^'  piU'ticH, 

daily  com- 
J  unlmiipy 
,  it  proved 
ri   nil  I'lisy 
cam(!  on  a 
sustain  tlic 
jf  October, 
'  relations  ; 
•ing  in  the 
'hen,  about 
v\iigcs,  and 
er  window, 
n  loaded,  I 
\v  viiin  and 
nnny  blood- 
[iatencd  me 
!(.',"  adding, 
isoner,  they 
e  to  rely  on 
accordingly 
that  I  had 
ers,  and  in- 
ictund  me  to 
could  carry 
re  my  eyes, 
out-houscs, 
four  horses^ 

they  come, 
■eatened  me 
I  agreed  to, 
h  I  traveled 
ny  unhappy 
laybreak  my 


infernal  nins((>r3  orderril  me  to  lay  down  my  load,  when,  tying  my  hand* 
again  round  a  tj-ee,  tiny  fon  c  i  the  bl'iod  <mt  nL  my  lln^'frH'  ends.  Ano 
then  kindling  a  tiro  near  ('i'"  tree  to  wlii-  li  I  wiw  bound,  tht;  mwt  dreadful 
agoniin  seized  mr,  concUuhng  I  was  to  be  made  aNaeiitiei^  to  tinir  biirhiii- 


ity.     The  lire  be 


mu'  I 


■idi',  they  I'lM    ofrie  time  danei'd  round  tne  after  their 


manner,  whoopim^,  hollow  iii';;'  and  sliriflxin^  i  i  a  t'-igliifnl  niaiiiii'r.  iieiiu,' 
satisfied  with  thin  sort  of  mirth,  they  proruvded  in  afiotf}«T  manner:  taking 
the  burning  eoals,  and  stii'ks  tluiiiiii!,'  with  tire  iit  the  ends  holding  thetn 
lo  my  laee,  head,  hands,  and  fe('f,  mid  at  the  s.imi'  lime  threatening  to 
burn  me  entirely  if  1  cried  out.  Thus,  tortured  as  I  wa^  almost  to  death, 
I  suffered  their  brutaliiir.s,  without  being  able  to  vent  my  anguish  other- 
wise than  by  sb(^dding  sitent  tears;  and  liiese  being  observed,  they  took 
fresh  coals  and  npplied  them  near  my  eyes,  telling  nie  my  faee  was  wot, 
and  that  they  would  dry  it  for  me,  whieh  iiuiei'd  they  eruelly  did.  How 
I  underwent  those  tortures  has  been  matter  of  wonder  to  me,  but  God 
enabled  me  to  wait  with  more  than  common  patience  for  the  deliverance 
I  daily  prayed  for. 

At  length  they  sat  down  round  the  lir(>,  and  roasted  the  meat,  of  which 
they  bad  robbed  my  dwelling.  When  they  had  supped,  they  offered  some 
to  mo ;  though  it  may  easily  Iw  imagiiunl  I  had  but  little  appetite  to  cat, 
after  the  tortures  and  miseries  I  had  sutl'ered,  yet  wa.s  I  forced  to  seem 
pleased  with  what  they  offered  me,  lest  by  refusing  it  they  should  re- 
sumo  their  hellish  practices.  What  I  could  not  oat  I  contrived  to  bide, 
they  having  unbound  mc  till  they  imagined  I  had  eat  all ;  but  then  they 
bound  me  as  before;  in  which  deplorable  condition  I  was  forced  to  con- 
tinue the  whole  day.  When  the  sun  was  set,  they  put  out  the  lire,  and 
covered  the  ashes  with  leaves,  as  is  their  usual  custom,  that  the  white 
people  might  not  discover  any  traces  of  their  having  been  there. 

Going  from  thence  along  the  Susquehanna,  for  the  space  of  six  milea 
loaded  as  I  was  before,  we  arrived  at  a  spot  near  the  Apalacbian  moun- 
tains, or  Blue  hills,  where  they  hid  their  plunder  under  logs  of  wood. 
From  thenco  they  proceeded  to  a  neighboring  house,  occupied  by  one 
Jacob  Snider  and  bis  unhappy  fainily,  consisting  of  his  wife,  five  children, 
and  a  young  man  his  servant  They  soon  got  admittance  into  the  unfor- 
tunate man's  house,  where  they  immediately,  without  the  least  remorse, 
scalped  both  parents  and  children ;  nor  could  the  tears,  the  shrieks,  or 
cries  of  poor  innocent  children  prevent  their  horrid  massacre.  Having  thus 
scalped  them,  and  plimdered  the  house  of  every  thing  that  was  mov- 
able, they  set  fire  to  it,  and  left  the  distressed  victims  amidst  the  flames 

Thinking  the  young  man  belonging  to  this  unhappy  family  would  be 

of  service  to  them  in  carrying  part  of  their  phinder,  they  spared  his  life, 

31 


482 


OAPIITITT   OF   PETER  WILUAHSOV 


and  loaded  him  and  myself  with  what  *hej  had  nere  got,  and  again 
marched  to  the  Blue  hills,  where  they  stowed  their  goods  as  before.  My 
fellow  suflFcrer  could  not  support  tlie  cruel  treatment  which  we  were 
obliged  to  suflfer,  and  compUiining  bitterly  to  me  of  his  being  unable  to 
proceed  any  farther,  I  endeavored  to  animate  him,  but  all  in  vain,  for  he 
still  continued  his  moans  and  tears,  Avliich  one  of  the  savages  perceiving, 
as  we  traveled  along,  came  up  to  us,  and  witli  his  tomahawk  gave  him  a 
blow  on  the  head,  which  felled  the  unhappy  youth  to  the  ground,  whom 
♦hey  immediately  scalped  and  left  The  suddenness  of  this  murder 
shocked  me  to  that  degree,  that  I  was  in  a  manner  motionless,  expecting 
my  fate  would  soon  be  the  same:  however,  recovering  my  distracted 
thoughts,  I  dissembled  my  anguish  as  well  as  I  could  from  the  barbarians : 
but  still,  such  was  my  terror,  thai  for  some  time  I  scarce  knew  the  days 
of  the  week,  or  what  I  did. 

They  still  kept  on  their  course  near  the  mountains,  where  they  lay 
skulking  four  or  five  days,  rejoicing  at  the  plunder  they  had  got  When 
provisions  became  scarce,  they  made  their  way  toward  Susquehanna,  and 
passing  near  another  house,  inliabited  by  an  old  man,  whose  name  was 
John  Adams,  with  his  wife  and  four  small  children,  and  meeting  with  no 
renstance,  they  immediately  scalped  the  mother  and  her  children  before 
the  old  man's  eyes.  Inhuman  and  horrid  as  this  was,  it  did  not  satisfy 
them;  for  when  they  had  murdered  the  poor  woman,  they  acted  with  her 
in  such  a  brutal  manner  as  decency  will  not  permit  me  to  mention.  The 
unhappy  husband,  not  being  able  to  avoid  the  sight,  entreated  them  to 
put  an  end  to  his  miserable  being ;  but  they  were  as  deaf  to  the  tears  and 
entreaties  of  this  venerable  sufl'erer  as  they  had  been  to  those  of  the 
others,  and  proceeded  to  burn  and  destroy  his  house,  barn,  corn,  hay, 
cattle,  and  every  thing  the  poor  man  a  few  hours  before  was  master  of. 
Having  saved  what  they  thought  proper  from  the  flames,  they  gave  the 
old  man,  feeble,  weak,  and  in  the  miserable  condition  he  then  was,  as  well 
as  myself,  burdens  to  carry,  and  loading  themselves  likewise  with  bread 
and  meat,  pursued  their  journey  toward  the  Great  Swamp.  Here  they 
lay  for  eight  or  nine  days,  diverting  themselves,  at  times,  in  barbarous 
cruelties  on  the  old  man:  sometimes  they  would  strip  him  naked,  and 
paint  him  all  over  witli  various  sorts  of  colors;  at  other  times  they  would 
pluck  the  white  hairs  from  his  head,  and  tauntingly  tell  him  he  was  a  fool 
for  living  so  long,  and  that  they  would  show  him  kindness  in  putting  him  out 
of  the  world.  In  vain  were  all  his  tears,  for  dailj'  did  they  tire  them- 
selves with  the  various  means  they  tried  to  torment  him ;  sometimes  tying 
him  to  a  tree,  and  whipping  him ;  at  other  times,  scorching  his  furrowed 
oheek  with  red  hot  ooaI%  and  burning  his  legs  quite  to  the  knees.    One 


OAPnnrr  or  pnm  wnxuiiBOir. 


488 


night,  after  he  had  been  thus  tormented,  while  he  and  I  were  condoling 
each  other  at  the  miseries  we  daily  suffered,  twenty-five  other  Indiana 
arrived,  bringing  with  them  twenty  scalps  and  three  prisoners,  who  had 
unhappily  fallen  into  their  hands  in  Conogocheague,  a  smai!  town  near 
the  river  Susquehanna,  chiefly  inhabited  by  the  Irish.  These  prisoners 
have  us  some  shocking  accounts  of  the  murders  and  devastations  com- 
mitted in  their  parts ;  a  few  instances  of  which  will  enable  the  reader  to 
guess  at  the  treatment  the  provincials  have  suffered  for  years  past.  This 
party  who  now  joined  us,  had  it  not,  I  found,  in  tlieir  power  to  begin 
their  violences  so  soon  as  those  who  visited  my  habitation;  the  first 
of  their  tragedies  being  on  the  25th  of  October,  1754,  when  John  Lewis, 
with  his  wife  and  tliree  small  children,  were  inhumanly  scalped  and 
murdered,  and  his  liouse,  barn,  and  everj'  thing  ho  possessed  burnt  and 
destroyed.  On  the  28th,  Jacob  Miller,  with  his  wife  and  six  of  his  family, 
with  every  thing  on  his  plantations,  shared  the  same  fate.  Tiie  30th,  the 
house,  mill,  barn,  twenty  head  of  cattle,  two  teams  of  horses,  and  every 
thing  belonging  to  George  Foliie,  met  Avitli  the  like  treatment,  himseli, 
wife,  and  all  his  miserable  family,  consisting  of  nine  in  number,  being 
scalped,  then  cut  in  pieces  and  given  to  the  swine.  One  of  the  substan- 
tial traders,  belonging  to  the  province,  having  business  that  called  him 
some  miles  up  tli(i  country,  fiill  into  the  hands  of  these  ruffians,  who  not 
only  scalped  iiim,  but  immediati'ly  roasted  him  before  he  was  dead ;  then, 
like  cannibals,  (or  want  of  other  food,  eat  his  whole  body,  and  of  his  head 
mad<',  what  tlvy  called,  an  Indian  pudcUng. 

From  these  few  instances  of  sa\age  cruelty,  the  deplorable  situation 
of  the  defenseless  inhabitants,  and  what  they  hourly  suffered  in  that  part 
of  the  globe,  must  strike  the  utmost  horror,  and  cause  in  every  breast 
the  utmost  detestation,  not  only  cagainst  the  authors,  but  against  those 
who,  through  inattention,  or  pusillanimous  or  erroneous  principles,  suffered 
these  savages  at  lirst,  unrepellcd,  or  even  unmolested,  to  commit  such 
outrages,  de[)redations  and  murders. 

The  three  prisoners  that  were  brought  with  these  additional  forces, 
constantly  repining  at  their  lot,  and  almost  dead  with  their  excessive  hard 
treatment,  contrived  at  last  to  make  their  escape :  but  being  far  from 
their  own  settlements,  and  not  knowing  the  country,  were  soon  after  met 
by  some  others  of  the  tribes  or  nations  at  war  with  us  and  brought  back. 
The  poor  creatures,  almost  famished  for  want  of  sustenance,  having  had 
none  during  the  time  of  their  escape,  were  no  sooner  in  the  power  of  the 
barbarians  than  two  of  them  were  tied  to  a  tree,  and  a  great  fire  made 
round  tliem,  where  they  remained  till  they  were  terribly  scorched  and 
burnt;  when  one  of  the  villains  with  his  scalpin^r  knif  ripped  open  their 


OAWIVm   OF  PKTKH  WTUUUSOK. 

be  others  were  cutting.  P-« ^^fJ^Hill  they  were  dead.  The  third 
hands,  arms  and  legs.  ..th  f;^^^^^^^  j,„/,  to  be.  if  poB^b  e.  sa. 
unhappy  victim  was  reserved  a  f  w  h  .^^  ^^^^^  ^^  ^^  ^^^        ^ 

rificod  in  a  more  cruel  ™-"- f^  J^  ,,,,,  upright,  ho  was  put  mto 
.  hole  being  dug  deep  ^^^^fJ^^^ZuounA  his  body  up  i.  1-  neck,  so 
it,  and  earth  rammed  and  be^  m  al  ^^^^  ^^^^^^^^  ^„,  ^d 

tt  his  head  only  :^PP;-^;;^^^^^^^  ,;.s  in  the  greatest  agomes 

there  let  him  remam  for  thr  e  or  t  ^^^^.^^  ^^^  ^,      ff,, 

after  which  thoy  made  a  smul    C:e  mar  ^^^^^^^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^,^ 

the  most  excruciating  ^--^"^^;.I^^ff,,  h' brains  were  boiling  m  h.s 
or  mercy  by  killing  '"-/^^^  therco'^tinued  the  tire  till  h.s  eyes 
W.  Inexorable  to  all  he  ^  M  _  ^^^^^^  ^\''\^Jl 
gushed  out  of  their  sockets.  ^^^^^^^^  ,^;^,,  quite  dead.  They  then 
feature  suficr  for  near  ^^voj'?"'^^  ^^ ^     ^^^^^  bodies;  my  task  being  to 

-  -^  ^'  ''''':::^:^^^  -  ^  -  ^«  ^^-^  -'  *'"^ 

diir  the  graves;  ^v men,  i*.-- 

the  same  fate  onabkd  me  to  do.  ^^^^^^^^  i,,t  the  white 

''a  great  .now  now  falling,  the  ^^^  ,,,,,,,,  ..treats,  which 

pe^/e  should,  by  UKir  tracks,  imd    u    th      ^^  ^^^^.    ^.  ^^^^. 

obliled  them  t.  make  the  best  ^^  ^^^  J^  ^,„tations  or  inhabitants; 

lut  two  hundred  miles  favth.    fr  m  -y  P  ^  ^^^^.^,^,^  ,      ..ed  with 

After  a  long  and  pain  ul  I'-n^^y^^^^^^^   ,^„,a  a  number  of  wigwam 
^  _       ,    ..,,-..0+  MnminQ'O.     incrc  A  ,.u,^„*  no- were 


Alter   (*   *^*'^    '"'      1 

«„i„f„„aio«w..A.«™ns>. 


ere  1  louuu  ^  "^ 

tins  mien...  ^^ ,  .„  T3..„cin-,  singing  and  shoutmg  were 

M  of  their  women  and  chil  ren       D  non^  ^^  ^,^,  ,,,ees  they 
heir  general  amusements.   ^^  rf^l,^,..,  damages  they  have  sus- 
elate'what  -cc-s  they  have  h^  and  wl^  ^^^^  ,,.,.„,e  a  part 
tained  in  their  expeditions;   m  ^^h  cU  ^,^^,^.  ^^,.^      ^  ^e 

of  their  theme.      The  seventy  ot    he  c  ^^^  ^^^^^  ^^^^^,jy 

:;  :,  eloUies  ..  their  0^1  -  ^  ^^:;,  .^r  of  moccasons,  or  shoes, 
themselves,  being  a  V-^^^"^^^,  ^e  instead  of  breeches. 
„Uh  a  yard  of  coarse  cloth,  to  pu^.o  .,  ,,^,  ,,ow  was  off  th^ 

At  Alamingo,  1  remamed  near  U  0  ^^  ^^^^^.^^^  ^^  ^,,,,pe    to 

„ound.     Whatever  thoughts  1  mig       >>  ^^  ^^^^.  ^^^,^  ,„y  plan- 

fa  ;  them  into  execution  ^^  J^^  ^^  ^  rendering  my  limbs  ma 
Ttions  or  white  people,  and  the  severe  w  ^^^  .^^^  ^^  ^^^^,^^^  ^ 

Slner  ,uite  stiff  and  -^^^^^"^  .veil  as  1  could,  by  making 


oAFnvmr  op  -pBrrER  wntiAMSoir. 


485 


,  -wlule 

)reast8, 
c  tbird 
lie,  sac- 
dy,  and 
)ut  into 
neck,  so 
um,  and 
agonies; 
to  suffer 
only  cry 
io-  in  bis 
his  eyes 
unhappy 
Chey  then 
:  being  to 
f  suffering 

the  -white 
Jilts,  which 
r  quarters, 
inhabitants; 
iriived  with 
)f  -wigwams 
outing  were 
Jancea  they 
.y  have  SUB- 
came  a  part 
stripped  me 
usually  wore 
ons,  or  shoes, 
jcbcs. 

V  was  off  the 
ny  escape,  to 
:om  any  plan- 
,ny  limbs  in  a 
defend  myself 
.Id,  by  making 
g  it  with  earth, 
ets  of  the  cold, 
jing  about  was 


indeed,  more  than  I  could  have  expected,  but  they  well  knew  the  im- 
practicability of  my  escaping  from  them.  Seeing  me  outwardly  easy 
and  submis-sive,  they  would  sometimes  give  me  a  little  meat,  but  my 
chief  food  wfi-s  Indian  corn.  At  length  the  time  came  wlien  they  were 
preparing  themselves  for  another  expedition  against  the  jjlanters  and 
white  people ;  but  before  they  set  out,  they  were  joined  by  many  other 
Indians. 

As  soon  ;is  the  snow  was  quie  gone,  they  set  forth  on  their  journey 
toward  the  back  parts  of  the  province  of  Pennsylvania;  all  leaving  their 
wives  and  children  behind  in  their  wigwams.  They  were  now  a  formi- 
dable body,  amounting  to  near  one  bundled  and  fifty.  My  business  wau 
to  carry  what  they  tliought  proper  to  load  mc  Avitli,  but  they  never  en- 
trusted me  with  a  gun.  We  marched  on  several  days  without  any  tiling 
particular  occurring,  almost  famished  for  want  of  provisions;  for  my  part, 
I  had  nothing  but  a  few  stalks  of  Indian  corn,  which  I  was  glad  to  eat 
dry;  nor  did  the  Indians  themselves  fare  much  better,  for  as  we  drew 
near  the  plantations  tliey  were  afi'aid  to  kill  any  game,  lest  the  noise  of 
their  guns  sliould  ahirm  the  inhabitants. 

When  we  again  arrived  at  the  Blue  hills,  about  tliirty  miles  from  the 
Irish  settlements  before  mentioned,  Ave  encamped  for  three  days,  though 
God  kno\\  s  we  had  neither  tents  nor  any  thing  else  to  defend  us  from 
the  inclemency  of  the  air,  having  nothing  to  lie  on  by  night  but  the  grass; 
their  usual  method  of  lodging,  pitching,  or  encamping,  by  night,  being  in 
parcels  of  ten  or  iwehe  men  to  a  fire,  where  they  lie  upon  the  grass  or 
brush  wrapped  up  in  a  blanket,  with  their  feet  to  the  fire. 

During  our  stay  here,  a  sort  of  council  of  war  was  held,  when  it  waa 
agreed  to  divide  themselves  into  companies  of  about  twenty  men  each; 
after  which  every  captain  marched  with  his  party  where  he  thought 
proper.  I  still  belonged  to  my  old  masters,  but  was  left  behind  on  the 
mountiuns  Avith  ten  Indians,  to  stay  till  the  rest  should  return;  not 
thinking  it  proper  to  carry  me  nearer  to  Conogocheague,  or  the  other 
plantations. 

Here  I  began  to  meditate  an  escape,  and  though  I  knew  the  country 
round  extrem(>ly  well,  yet  I  was  A'ery  cautious  of  giving  the  least  suspi- 
cion of  any  such  intention.  However,  the  third  day  after  the  grand  body 
left,  my  companions  thought  proper  to  traverse  the  mountains  in  search 
of  game  for  their  sustenance,  leaving  me  bound  in  such  a  manner  that  I 
could  not  escape.  At  niglit,  when  they  returned,  having  unbound  me,  Ave 
all  sat  doAvn  together  to  supper  on  Avhat  they  had  killed,  and  soon  after 
(being  greatly  fatigued  Avith  their  day's  excursion)  they  composed  them- 
selves to  rest,  as  usual.    I  now  tried  various  ways  to  try  whether  it  was  a 


miiimmS^liSKSS^ 


OAi>TiynT  or  fetbr  wuxiahbov. 

scheme  to  prove  my  intentions  or  not;  but  after  making  a  noise  and 
walking  about^  sometimes  touching  them  with  my  feet,  I  found  there  was 
no  fallacy.  Then  I  resolved,  if  possible,  to  get  one  of  their  guns,  and, 
if  discovered,  to  die  in  my  defense,  rather  than  be  taken.  For  that  pur- 
pose I  made  various  efforts  to  get  one  from  under  their  heads,  (where  they 
always  secured  them,)  but  in  viiin.  Disappointed  in  this,  1  began  to 
despair  of  carrying  my  design  into  execution ;  yet,  after  a  little  recollec- 
tion, and  trusting  myself  to  the  divine  protection,  I  set  forward,  naked 
and  defenseless  as  I  was.  Such  was  my  terror,  however,  that  in  going 
from  them  I  halted,  and  paused  every  four  or  five  yards,  looking  fearfully 
toward  the  spot  wh(!re  I  had  left  them,  lest  they  should  awake  and  misa 
me ;  but  when  I  was  two  hundred  yards  from  them,  I  mended  my  pace, 
and  made  as  much  haste  as  I  possibly  could  to  the  foot  of  the  mountains; 
when,  on  a  sudden,  I  was  struck  with  the  greatest  terror  at  hearing  the 
wood  cry,  as  it  is  called,  which  the  savages  I  had  left  were  making  upon 
missing  their  charge.  The  more  my  terror  increased  the  faster  I  pushed 
on,  and  scarce  knowing  where  I  trod,  drove  through  the  woods  with  the 
utmost  precipitation,  sometimes  falling  and  bruising  myself,  cutting  my 
feet  and  legs  against  the  stones  in  a  miserable  manner.  But  faint  and 
maimed  as  I  was,  I  cor  tinned  my  flight  till  daybreak,  when,  without  hav- 
ing any  thing  to  sustain  nature  but  a  little  corn  left,  I  crept  into  a  hollow 
tree,  where  1  lay  very  snug,  and  returned  my  prayers  and  thanks  to  the 
divine  Being  that  had  thus  far  favored  my  escape.  But  my  repose  was 
in  a  few  hours  destroyed  at  hearing  the  voices  of  the  savages  near  the 
place  where  I  was  hid,  threatening  and  talking  how  they  would  use  me 
if  they  got  me  again.  However,  they  at  last  left  the  spot  where  I  heard 
them,  and  I  remained  in  my  apartment  all  that  d<iy  without  further 
molestation. 

At  night  I  ventured  forward  again,  frightened;  thinking  each  twig 
that  touched  me  a  savage.  The  third  day  I  concealed  myself  in  like 
manner  as  before,  and  at  night  traveled,  keeping  off  the  main  road  as 
much  as  possible,  which  lengthened  my  journey  many  miles.  But  how 
shall  1  describe  the  teiror  I  felt  on  the  fourth  night,  when  by  the  rustling 
I  made  among  the  leaves,  a  parly  of  Indians,  that  lay  round  a  small  fire, 
which  I  did  not  perceive,  started  from  the  ground,  and  seizing  their  arms, 
ran  from  the  fire  among  the  woods.  Whether  to  move  forward  or  rest 
where  I  was,  I  knf  w  not,  when  to  my  great  surprise  and  joy,  I  was 
relieved  by  a  parcel  of  swine  that  made  toward  the  place  where  I  guessed 
the  savages  to  be ;  who,  on  seeing  them,  imagined  they  had  caused  the 
alarm,  very  merrily  returned  to  the  fire,  and  lay  again  down  to  sleep. 
Bruised,  crippled,  and  terrified  as  I  was,  I  pursued  my  journey  till  break 


OlFTIVITT  OT  FKTBR  WILLU1160K. 


487 


le  and 
re  was 
i,  and, 
it  pur- 
•e  they 
gan  to 
jcoUec- 

naked 
1  going 
BurfuUy 
nd  nuaa 
ij'  pa«e, 
untfdna; 
ing  the 
ic;  upon 
;  pushed 
(vith  the 
;ting  my 
faint  and 
out  hav- 

a  hollow 
iks  to  the 
(pose  was 

near  the 
1  use  me 
e  I  heard 
It  further 

each  twig 
8lf  in  like 
in  road  as 

But  how 
he  rustling 

small  fire, 
their  arms, 
ard  or  rest 

joy,  I  was 
■c  I  guessed 

caused  the 
vn  to  sleep. 
!Y  till  break 


of  day,  when,  thinking  myself  safe,  I  lay  down  under  a  great  loff,  and 
dept  till  about  noon.  Before  evening  I  reached  the  summit  of  a  great 
hill,  and  looking  out  if  I  could  spy  any  habitations  of  white  people,  to 
my  inexpressible  jov  I  saw  some,  which  I  guessed  to  be  about  ten  miles 
distant 

In  the  morning,  I  continued  my  journey  toward  the  nearest  cleared 
lands  I  had  seen  the  day  before,  and,  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
arrived  at  the  house  of  John  Bell,  an  old  acquaintance,  where,  knocking 
at  the  door,  his  wife,  who  opened  it,  seeing  me  in  such  u  frightful  condi- 
tion, flew  from  me  screaming,  into  the  house.  This  alarmed  the  whole 
family,  who  immediately  fled  to  their  arms,  and  I  was  soon  accosted  by 
the  master  with  his  gun  in  his  hand.  But  on  making  myself  \nown,  (for 
he  before  took  tie  to  be  an  Indian,)  he  immediately  caressed  me,  as  did 
all  his  family,  with  extraordinary  friendship,  the  report  of  my  being  mur- 
dered by  the  savages  having  reached  them  some  months  before.  For 
two  days  and  nights  they  very  afiectionately  supplied  me  witii  iUI  neces- 
saries, and  carefully  attended  me  till  my  spirits  and  limbs  were  pretty 
well  recovered,  and  I  thought  myself  able  to  ride,  when  I  borrowed  of 
these  good  people  (whose  kindness  merits  my  most  grateful  returns)  a 
horse  and  some  clothes,  and  set  forward  for  my  father-in-law's  house  iL 
Chester  county,  about  one  hundred  and  forty  miles  from  thence,  where  I 
ariived  on  the  4th  of  January,  1755,  (but  scarce  one  of  the  family  could 
credit  their  eyes,  believing,  with  the  people  I  had  lately  left,  that  I  hao 
fallen  a  prey  to  the  Indians,)  where  I  was  received  and  embraced  by  the 
whole  family  with  great  affection.  Upon  inquiring  for  my  dear  wife,  I 
found  she  had  been  dead  two  months !  This  fatal  news  greatly  lessened 
the  joy  I  otherwise  should  have  felt  at  my  deliverance  from  the  dreadful 
state  and  company  I  had  been  ia 


NARRATIVE   OF  THE   CAPTIVITY 


Of 


JONATHAN  CARVER. 


•jf- 


Gen.  Webb,  who  commanded  the  English  army  in  North  America, 
whicli  was  tlien  (11 51)  encamped  at  fort  Edward,  having  intelligcDce 
tliat  the  French  troops,  under  Monsieur  Montcalm,  were  making  some 
movements  tow.ud  fort  William  lleniy,  he  detached  a  corps  of  about 
fifteen  hundnjd  men,  consisting  of  English  and  provincials,  to  strengthen 
tlie  garrison.     In  this  party  I  went  as  a  volunteer  among  the  latter. 

The  apprehensions  of  the  English  general  were  not  without  foundation; 
for,  the  day  after  our  arrival,  we  saw  lake  George,  (formerly  lake  Sacra- 
ment,) to  which  it  lies  contiguous,  covered  with  an  immense  number  of 
boats;  and,  in  a  few  hours,  we  found  our  lines  attacked  by  the  French 
general,  who  had  just  landed  with  eleven  thousand  regulars  and  Canadi- 
ans, and  two  thousand  Indians.  Colonel  Monro,  a  brave  officer,  com- 
manded the  fort,  and  had  no  more  than  two  thousand  three  hundred  men 
with  liim,  our  detachment  included. 

With  these,  he  made  a  gallant  defense,  and  probably  would  have  been 
able,  at  last,  to  pn'serve  the  fort,  had  ho  been  properly  supptjrted,  a,nd 
permitted  to  continue  his  efforts.  On  every  summons  to  surrender,  sent 
by  the  French  general,  who  ofl'ered  the  most  honorable  terms,  his  iinswcr 
repeatedly  was,  that  he  yet  found  himself  in  a  condition  to  rejiel  the  most 
vigorous  altiick  his  besiegers  were  able  to  make ;  and,  if  he  thought  his 
present  force  insufficient,  he  could  soon  be  supplied  with  a  greater  number 
from  the  adjacent  firniy. 

But  the  colonel  having  acqumnted  General  ^^  cLb  with  his  situation, 
and  desired  that  he  would  send  him  some  fresh  troops,  the  general  dis- 
patched a  messenger  to  liim  with  a  letter,  wherein  he  informed  him  that 
it  was  not  in  his  power  to  assist  him,  and,  therefore,  gave  him  orders  to 
surrender  up  the  fort,  on  the  best  terms  he  could  procure.    This  packet 


».. 


OAPTITITT  or  OAFTAIN  OARVX& 


489 


fell  into  the  hands  of  tlie  French  general,  xrho  immediately  sent  a  flag  of 
truce,  desiring  a  conference  with  the  governor. 

iliey  accordingly  met,  attended  only  by  a  small  guard,  in  the  center 
between  the  lines ;  when  Monsieur  Montcalm  told  the  colonel  that  he  was 
come  in  person  to  demand  possession  of  the  fort,  as  it  belonged  to  the 
king  his  master.  The  colonel  replied,  that  he  knew  not  how  that  could 
be,  nor  should  he  surrender  it  up,  while  it  was  in   his  power  to  defend  it. 

The  French  general  rejoined,  at  the  same  time  delivering  the  packet 
mto  the  colonel's  hand,  "  By  this  authority  do  I  make  the  requisition." 
The  brave  governor  had  no  sooner  read  the  contents  of  it,  and  was  coii- 
Tinced  that  such  were  the  orders  of  the  commander-ia-ehicf,  and  not  to 
be  disobeyed,  than  he  hung  his  head  in  silence,  and  reluctantly  entered 
into  a  negotiation. 

In  consideration  of  the  gallant  defense  the  garrison  had  made,  they 
were  to  be  permitted  to  march  out  with  all  the  honors  of  war,  to  be 
allowed  covered  Wtigons  to  transport  their  baggage  to  fort  Edward,  and  a 
guard  to  protect  them  from  the  fury  of  the  savages. 

The  morning  after  the  capitulation  was  signed,  as  soon  as  day  broke, 
the  whole  garrison,  now  consisting  of  about  two  thousand  men,  besides 
women  and  children,  were  drawn  up  within  the  lints,  and  on  the  point  of 
marching  off,  when  great  numbers  of  the  Indians  gathered  about,  and 
began  to  plunder.  We  were  at  first  in  hopes  that  tliis  -wns  their  only 
view,  and  suffered  them  to  proceed  without  opposiiion.  Indeed,  it  was 
not  in  our  power  to  make  any,  had  we  been  so  inclined ;  for  though  we 
were  permitted  to  carry  oflF  our  arms,  yet  we  were  not  allowed  a  single 
round  of  ammunition.  In  these  hopes,  however,  we  were  disappointed; 
for  presently  some  of  them  began  to  attack  the  sick  and  wounded,  when 
such  as  were  not  able  to  crawl  into  the  ranks,  notwithstanding  they  endea- 
vored to  avert  the  fui  j  of  their  enemies  by  their  shrieks  or  gioans,  were 
soon  dispatched. 

Here  we  were  fully  in  expectation  that  the  disturbance  would  have 
concluded ;  and  our  Tittle  army  began  to  move ;  but  in  a  short  time  we 
saw  the  front  division  driven  back,  and  discovered  that  we  were  entirely 
encircled  by  the  savages.  We  expected  every  moment  that  the  guard, 
wliich  the  French,  by  the  articles  of  capitulation,  had  agreed  to  allow  us, 
would  have  arrived,  and  put  an  end  to  our  apprehensions;  but  none 
appeared.  The  Indians  now  began  to  strip  every  one,  without  exception, 
of  their  arms  and  clothes,  and  those  who  made  the  least  resistance  felt 
the  weight  of  their  tomahawks. 

I  happened  to  be  in  the  rear  division,  but  it  was  not  long  before  I 
shared  the  fute  of  my  compauioos.    Three  or  four  of  the  savages  luid 


mmm 


490 


OAFTITITT  or  OAPTAIir  OABVIS. 


hold  of  me,  and  while  some  held  their  weapons  over  my  head,  the  others 
soon  disrobed  me  of  my  coat,  waistcoat,  hat,  and  buckles,  omitting  not  to 
take  from  mc  what  money  I  had  in  my  pocket  As  this  was  transacted 
close  by  the  passage  that  led  from  the  lines  on  to  tlic  plain,  near  which  a 
French  sentinel  was  posted,  I  ran  to  him  and  claimed  his  protection ;  but 
he  only  called  me  an  English  dog,  and  thrust  me  with  violence  back 
again  into  the  midst  of  the  Indians. 

I  now  endeavored  to  join  a  body  of  our  troops  that  were  crowded 
together  at  some  distance ;  but  innumerable  were  the  blows  that  were 
made  at  me  with  different  weapons,  as  I  passed  on;  luckily,  however,  the 
savages  were  so  close  together  that  they  could  not  strike  at  me  without  en- 
dangering each  other.  Notwithstanding  which,  one  of  them  found  means  to 
make  a  thrust  at  me  with  a  spear,  which  grazed  my  side,  and  from 
another  I  received  a  wound,  with  the  same  kind  of  weapon,  in  my  ankle. 
At  length  I  gained  the  spot  where  my  countrymen  stood,  and  forced 
myself  into  the  midst  of  them. .  But  before  I  got  thus  far  out  of  the 
hands  of  the  Indians,  the  collar  and  wristbands  of  my  shirt  were  all  that 
remained  of  it,  and  my  flesh  was  scratched  and  torn  in  many  places  by 
their  savage  gripes. 

By  this  time  the  war-whoop  was  ^ven,  and  the  Indians  began  to 
murder  those  that  were  nearest  to  them,  without  distinction.  It  is  not 
in  the  power  of  words  to  give  any  tolerable  idea  of  the  horrid  scene  that 
now  ensued;  men,  women,  and  children  were  dispatched  in  the  most 
wanton  and  cruel  manner,  and  immediately  scalped.  Many  of  these 
savages  drank  the  blood  of  their  victims,  as  it  flowed  warm  from  the  fatal 
wound 

We  now  perceived,  though  too  late  to  avail  us,  that  we  were  to  expect 
no  relief  from  the  French ;  and  that,  contrary  to  the  agreement  they  had 
so  lately  signed,  to  allow  us  a  sufficient  force  to  protect  us  from  these 
insults,  they  tacitly  permitted  them;  for,  I  could  plainly  perceive  the 
French  officers  walking  about  at  some  distance,  discoursing  together  with 
apparent  unconcern.  For  the  honor  of  human  nature,  I  would  hope  that 
this  flagrant  breach  of  everj'  sacred  law  proceeded  rather  from  the  savage 
disposition  of  the  Indians,  which,  I  acknowledge,  it  is  sometimes  almost 
impossible  to  control,  and  which  might  now  unexpectedly  have  arrived  to 
a  pitch  not  easily  to  be  restrained,  than  to  any  premeditated  design  in  the 
French  commander.  An  unprejudiced  observer  would,  however,  be  apt 
to  conclude,  that  a  body  of  ten  thousand  christian  troops  —  most  christian 
troops  —  had  it  in  their  power  to  prevent  the  massacre  from  becoming  so 
general  But,  whatever  was  the  cause  from  which  it  arose,  the  conse 
(]uences  of  it  were  dreadful,  and  not  to  be  paralleled  in  modem  history. 


exmyiTT  or  oiPTAnr  oaryik 


491 


As  the  circle  in  which  I  stood  inclosed,  was  by  this  time  much  thinned, 
and  death  seemed  to  be  approaching  with  hasty  strides,  it  was  proposed  by 
some  of  the  most  resolute,  to  make  one  vigorous  effort,  and  endeavor  to 
force  our  way  through  tlie  savages,  the  only  probable  method  of  preserv- 
ing our  lives,  that  now  remained.  This,  however  desperate,  was  resolved 
on,  and  about  twenty  of  us  sprang  at  once  into  the  midst  of  them. 

In  a  moment  we  were  all  separated,  and  what  was  the  fate  of  my  com- 
panions I  could  not  learn  till  some  months  after,  when  I  found  that  only 
six  or  seven  of  them  efiected  their  design.  Intent  only  on  my  own 
hazardous  situation,  I  endeavored  to  make  my  way  through  my  savage 
enemies  in  the  best  manner  possible.  And  I  have  often  been  astonished 
since,  when  I  have  recollected  with  what  composure  I  took,  as  I  did, 
every  necessary  step  for  my  preservation.  Some  I  overturned,  being  at 
that  time  young  and  athletic,  and  others  I  passed  by,  dexterously  avoiding 
their  weapons ;  till  at  last  two  very  stout  chiefs,  of  the  most  savage  tribes, 
as  I  could  distinguish  by  their  dress,  whose  strength  I  could  hot  resist, 
laid  hold  of  me  by  each  arm,  and  began  to  force  me  through  the  crowd- 

I  now  resigned  myself  to  my  fate,  not  doubting  but  that  they  intended 
to  dispatch  me,  and  then  to  satiate  their  vengeance  with  my  blood,  as  I 
found  they  were  hurrymg  me  towaid  a  retired  swamp  that  lay  at  some 
distance.  But,  before  we  had  got  many  yards,  an  English  gentleman  of 
some  distinction,  as  I  could  discover  by  his  breeches,  the  only  covering 
he  had  on,  which  were  of  fine  scarlet  velvet,  rushed  close  by  us.  One 
of  the  Indians  instantly  relinquished  his  hold,  and  springing  on  this  new 
object,  endeavored  to  seize  him  as  his  prey ;  but  the  gentleman  being 
strong,  threw  him  on  the  ground,  and  would  probably  have  got  away, 
had  not  he  who  held  my  other  arm  quitted  me  to  assist  his  brother. 
I  seized  the  opportunity,  and  hastened  away  to  join  another  party  of  Eng- 
lish troops  that  were  yet  unbroken,  and  stood  in  a  body  at  some  distance. 
But  before  I  had  taken  many  steps,  I  hastily  cast  my  eye  toward  the  gen- 
tleman, and  saw  the  Indian's  tomahawk  gash  into  his  back,  and  heard 
him  utter  his  last  groan.    This  added  both  to  my  speed  and  desperation. 

I  had  left  this  shocking  scene  but  a  few  yards,  when  a  fine  boy,  about 
twelve  years  of  age,  that  had  hitherto  escaped,  came  up  to  me,  and 
begged  that  I  would  let  him  lay  hold  of  me,  so  that  he  might  stand  some 
chance  of  getting  out  of  the  hands  of  the  savages.  I  told  him  that  I 
would  give  him  every  assistance  in  my  power,  and  to  this  purpose,  bid 
him  lay  hold ;  but  in  a  few  moments  he  was  torn  from  my  side,  and  by 
his  shrieks  I  judge  was  soon  demolished.  I  could  not  help  forgetting  my 
own  cares  for  a  minute,  to  lament  the  fate  of  so  young  a  sufferer;  but  it 
was  utterly  impossible  for  me  to  take  any  methods  to  prevent  it 


493 


CAPTIVITT   0»   0AFTAI5  OARTSR. 


I  now  got  once  more  into  the  midst  of  friends,  but  we  were  unuble  to 
ftfford  each  other  any  succor.  As  liiis  was  the  division  tiiat  liad  ailvanced 
tlie  furthest  from  tin;  furt,  I  thought  there  miylit  be  .1  possiJiilily  (though 
but  a  bare  one)  of  my  furciiig  my  way  througli  the  outer  ranks  uf  the 
Indians,  and  getting  to  a  ni'igiiboring  wo<jd,  whicli  I  pereiivcd  at  some 
distance.  I  was  still  encouraged  to  liope  by  the  almost  miraculous  pre- 
Bervati(jn  I  hail  already  expt'rienced. 

Nor  were  my  hi>j)es  in  vain,  (jr  the  efforts  I  made  uieflectual.  Suffice 
to  say,  that  I  reached  the  wood ;  but  by  tlie  time  I  had  penetrated  a 
little  way  into  i*,  my  breath  wjis  so  exliausted  that  I  threw  my.self  into  a 
break,  and  liiy  for  some  minutes  apparently  at  the  last  gaso.  At  length 
I  recovered  the  j)ower  of  respiration ;  but  my  apprehei^-^ions  returned 
with  all  their  former  force,  when  1  saw  several  savages  ])ap'i  by,  probably 
in  pursuit  of  me,  at  no  very  great  distance.  In  this  situation  1  knew  not 
whellier  it  w;uj  better  to  proceed,  or  endeavor  to  conceal  myself  where  I 
lay  till  niglit  came  uii ;  fearing,  however,  that  they  would  return  the  same 
way,  I  thougiit  it  most  jjrudent  to  get  further  from  the  dreadful  scene 
of  my  distresses.  Accordingly,  striking  into  another  part  of  tlie  wood,  I 
hastened  on  as  f;L«t  as  the  briers  and  the  loss  of  one  of  my  shoes  would 
permit  me ;  and  after  a  slow  progress  of  s<  me  liours,  gained  a  hill  that 
overlcMjked  the  plain  which  I  had  just  loft,  from  whence  I  could  discern 
that  the  bloody  storm  still  raged  with  unabated  fury. 

But,  not  to  tire  my  readeis,  I  shall  only  add,  that  after  par,sing  three 
days  without  subsistence,  and  enduring  the  severity  of  the  cold  dews  for 
tliree  nights,  I  at  length  reached  fort  Edward;  where,  with  proper  care 
my  b(xly  soim  recovered  its  wonted  strengtli,  and  my  mind,  as  fiir  ns 
the  recollection  of  the  late  melancholy  events  would  permit,  its  usual 
composure. 

It  was  computed  that  fifteen  hundred  persons  were  killed  or  made 
prisoners  by  these  savages  during  this  fatal  day.  Many  of  the  latter 
were  carried  off  by  them  and  never  returned.  A  few,  through  favorable 
accidents,  found  their  way  back  to  their  native  country,  after  having 
experienced  a  long  and  severe  captivity. 

The  brave  CoL  Monro  had  hastened  away,  soon  after  the  confusion 
began,  to  the  French  camp,  to  endeavor  to  procure  the  guard  agreed  by 
the  stipulation ;  but  his  application  proving  inefiectual,  he  remained  there 
till  General  Webb  sent  a  party  of  troops  to  demand  and  protect  him  back 
to  fort  Edward.  But  these  unhappy  occurrences,  which  would  probably 
have  been  prevented  had  he  been  left  to  pursue  liis  own  plans,  together 
with  the  loss  of  bo  many  brave  fellows,  murdered  in  cold  blood,  to  whose 
(ralor  be  had  been  so  lately  a  witness,  made  such  an  impression  on  his 


OAPTITITT   Of   CAPTAIS    CARVER. 


403 


mind  that  he  did  not  long  survive.  IIo  died  in  about  three  months,  of  a 
broken  licart,  and  with  truth  miglit  it  bo  said,  tliat  he  wa-s  an  honor  to 
his  country. 

I  nu'fin  not  to  point  out  iho  f(jll()\ving  circumstance  as  the  immediate 
judgment  of  Heaven,  and  intended  as  an  atitnemtmt  fur  tliis  slaugliter, 
but  I  caimot  omit  that  very  few  of  those  dillerent  tribes  of  Indians  that 
shared  in  it  ever  lived  to  return  home.  Tiie  small-pox,  by  means  of  tlieir 
communication  with  the  Eurojx'jins,  found  its  way  among  tliem,  and 
made  an  ecjual  havoc  to  what  tliey  iheniselves  had  done.  The  metJKjds 
they  pursued  on  the  first  attack  of  tliat  malignant  disonler,  to  abate  the 
fever  attef.ding  it,  rendered  it  fatal.  Wliil(!  their  blood  was  in  a  state  of 
fermentation,  and  nature  was  striving  to  throw  out  the  peccant  matter, 
they  checked  her  operations  by  plunging  into  the  water;  the  conseiiuenoe 
was  that  they  died  by  hundreds.  The  few  that  survived,  were  trans- 
formed by  it  into  hideous  objects,  and  b(jro  with  them  to  the  grave  deep 
indented  marks  of  this  much  dreaded  disease. 

Monsieur  Montcalm  fell  soon  after  on  the  plidna  of  Quebec. 

That  the  unprovoked  cruelty  of  this  commander  was  not  approved  of 
by  the  generality  of  his  countrymen,  I  have  since  been  convinced  of  by 
many  proofs.  Only  one,  however,  wiiich  I  received  from  a  person  who 
was  witness  to  it,  sludl  I  at  present  give.  A  (.'anndian  merchant,  of  some 
consideration,  liaving  heard  of  the  surrender  of  the  English  fort,  cele- 
brated the  fortunate  event  with  great  rejoicings  and  hospitality,  according 
to  the  custom  of  that  country;  but  no  sooner  did  the  news  of  the  mas- 
sacre which  ensued  reach  his  ears,  than  he  put  an  immediate  stop  to 
the  festivities,  and  exclaimed  in  the  severest  terms  against  the  inhumaa 
permission ;  declaring  at  the  same  time  that  those  who  had  connived  at  it 
liad  thereby  drawn  down  on  that  part  of  their  king's  dominions  the 
veno-eance  of  Heaven.  To  this  he  added,  that  he  much  feared  the  total 
loss  of  them,  would  deservedly  be  the  consequence.  How  truly  this 
prediction  has  been  verified,  we  well  know. 


f^i.. 


NARRATIVE    OF   THE    CAPTIVITY 

or 

MRS.  SCOTT. 


Mrs.  Scott,  a  resident  of  Washington  county,  Virginia,  was  taken 
captive  by  Indians  on  the  night  of  the  twenty-ninth  of  June,  1786.  Her 
husband  and  nil  her  childron  were  slain ;  and  before  morning  she  was 
forced  to  commence  her  march  through  the  wilderness. 

On  the  eleventh  day  of  her  captivity,  while  in  charge  of  four  Indians, 
provision  becoming  scarce,  a  halt  was  made,  and  lhrt!0  of  the  number 
went  on  a  hunting  e.\cursion.  Being  left  in  the  care  of  an  old  man,  she 
made  liim  beheve  she  was  reconciled  to  her  condition,  and  thus  threw 
him  off  his  guard.  Anxious  to  escape,  and  having  matured  her  plans, 
nhe  asked  him,  in  the  most  disinterested  manner  possible,  to  let  her  go  to 
«  small  stream,  near  by,  and  wash  her  apron,  which  wius  besmeared  with 
the  blood  of  one  of  her  children.  He  gave  her  leave,  and  while  he  was 
busy  in  "  graining  a  deer-skin,"  she  started  off.  Arriving  at  the  stream, 
without  a  moment's  hesitation,  she  pushed  on  in  the  direction  of  a  moun- 
tain. Traveling  till  late  at  night,  she  came  into  a  valley  where  she  hoped 
to  find  the  track  along  which  she  had  been  taken  by  her  captors,  and 
thereby  be  able  to  retrace  her  steps.  Hurrying  across  the  valley  to  the 
margin  of  a  river,  which  she  supposed  must  be  the  eastern  branch  of  the 
Kentucky,  she  discovered  in  the  sand  the  tracks  of  two  men  who  had 
followed  the  stream  upward  and  returned.  Thinking  them  to  be  the 
prints  of  pursuers,  and  that  they  had  returned  from  the  search,  she  took 
courage,  thanked  God,  and  was  prepared  to  continue  her  flight 

On  the  third  day  she  came  very  near  falling  into  the  hands  of  savages, 
a  company  whom  she  supposed  had  been  sent  to  Clinch  river  on  a  pilfer- 
ing excursion.  Hearing  their  approach  before  they  came  in  sights  she 
concealed  herself,  and  they  passed  without  noticing  her.  She  now 
became  greatly  alarmed,  and  was  so  bewildered  as  to  lose  her  way  and 
to  vander  at  random  for  several  day& 


MM.  soorr'i  oArnnnr. 


408 


At  lenfi^h,  coming  to  a  stream  that  ncemed  to  flow  from  the  eaat,  she 
•oncludiid  it  must  bo  Handy  river ;  and  resolving  to  trace  it  to  it*  source, 
which  was  near  a  ncttlemont  where  she  waa  acquainted,  she  pushed  on 
for  several  days,  till  she  came  into  mountainous  rogionn  and  to  craggj 
■tecps.  There,  in  the  vicinity  of  a  "  prodigious  waterfall,"  Hhe  was  forred 
to  leap  from  a  precipice,  upon  some  rocks,  and  wits  ho  stunned  as  to  be 
oblig(!d  to  make  a  short  delay  in  her  journey. 

Soon  after  pucsing  through  the  mountain,  (Laurel  mountain,)  she  was 
bitten  bj  A  snake  which  she  supposed  was  venomous.  She  killed  it,  and 
expected  her  turn  to  die  would  como  next;  but  the  only  injury  she 
received  was  some  pain  and  the  slight  swelling  of  one  foot  A  writer, 
whose  narration  we  follow,  and  whose  facts  are  more  reliable  than  his  philo- 
sophy, thinks  that,  being  "reduced  to  a  mere  skeleton,  with  fatigue, 
hunger  and  grief,"  she  wjis  probably,  on  that  account,  "  saved  from  the 
effects  of  the  poisonous  fangs." 

Leaving  the  river,  Mrs.  Scott  came  to  a  forked  valley,  and  watcliing  the 
flight  of  bird.s,  took  the  br.mch  they  did,  and  in  two  days  came  in  sight  of 
New  Garden,  the  settlement  on  Clinch  river,  before  referred  to.  Thus, 
after  wandering  in  the  wilderness  fur  six  long  weeks,  almost  destitute  ef 
clothing,  without  a  weapon  of  defense  or  instrument  for  obtaining  pro- 
vision; exposed  to  wild  beasts  and  mcniless  su vagus;  subsisting  a  full 
month  on  the  juice  of  young  cane  stalks,  so-ssafras  leaves  and  similar  food, 
looking  to  God  in  prayer  for  guidance  by  day,  and  for  jirotection  by  nightt 
shielded  from  serious  harm,  nnd  led  by  an  unseen  Hand,  on  the  eleventh 
of  August,  the  wanderings  of  the  widowed  and  cjiiitiless  captive  were 
brought  to  a  close.  J.  C. 


TIIK    KVl). 


